A Different Type of Soldier
by Literature work
Summary: Captain ED-0001 is the Imperial commander of the Green Lion Company who is in charge of a supply outpost on the planet of e Commander has a plan but how will he carry it out with the Eastern Rebel's sudden arrival? Will his allegiance to the Empire change with the new information the rebels reveal? [StarWars AU] Inspired by Carnage of Krell (SW: The Clone Wars episode)
1. A Clone with a Plan

_Authour's Note: Alright, Alright. I wanted to post a document with story ideas so that people can look at what I was thinking about however I decided to run my ideas over my sister's first and they encouraged me to actually write this. I mean I did go a little overboard with plot detail and stuff when I was imagining it so... yeah it kind of got out of hand which might also explain why this chapter is so long. This is just a preview I guess? I don't know. I mean it IS the first chapter but yeah... Now I am rambling. I would definitely like to hear if posting ideas and plot lines for stories I haven't written and might not write yet is a good Idea. I want to spread some inspiration but i don't know if I should do it or not._

 _ **A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter One

A Clone with a Plan

 _The Avarice Battalion is stationed on the green planet of Resembool, known for the long harvest season and the ground's fertility. The Central Empire took control over Resembool thirteen years ago in order to help supply their troops with food. It is the only planet in the eastern quadrant held completely by members of the Extravagance Corp. known for their utilities in supplies and transportation. There are four posts on the planet each run only by a single company from the small battalion. Red Lion Company covers the Northern Quadrant, Yellow Lion in the East, Blue lion in the West, and Green Lion in the South. Small villages are separated under their protection from which they must collect their quota of crops to send to the Fleet. Each of the companies do not have an individual quota but rather work towards the one given to the Battalion as a whole which means that they often over shoot the necessity from collecting too much of the villages' harvest. This leaves the villages ransacked and hungry for the upcoming winter. Commanders of the companies tried to help distribute their extra food rations to the villagers, but it wasn't substantial enough for the villages to keep from sinking into ruin. Now the Commander of Green Lion Company, a young genetically unique clone named Captain ED-0001, has taken it upon himself to provide a new way of meeting the quota in time and returning what they had taken from the villagers. He designed a new species of seed, genetically superior to the crops that the villagers plant every year. Cloning the seeds and creating a stock hold, he plans on trading them for the grown crops the villagers already have. However as the Commander tries to repair the damage the Empire already caused, it might be too late to win the Villager's aid._

… _._

The Commander stared down at his writing desk with a tired look in his eyes. He had stayed up for the past few nights finalizing his research and now, he knew it was finally done. He smiled as he signed his number on the bottom of his journal and tossed the pen down on the desk. It was finished. A relieved chuckle left his lips as he leaned back and massaged his tired face. He did it, he really did it. There was a sudden knock on the door and the Commander looked to see the familiar face of Lieutenant Pitt walking into their shared room. It was very uncommon in the Central Army that a Captain would be sharing living quarters with anyone, especially a lieutenant but this was Resembool. Their outpost was so small that living space needed to be compacted together. He forced everyone to share and he wasn't an exception. It wasn't that bad honestly. It was nice to have company when your entire work day is filled with people being intimidated by you. And the Commander was willing to admit that he was by far the worse roommate of the two of them, staying up all night for his silly little experiments.

"What are you so happy about, Cap?" Pitt, or rather PT-3149 as his number was, asked him as he ducked in through the doorway. He removed his helmet and carelessly tossed it on his bed. Personal quarters or dining facilities were the only places Central troops were authorised to take off their helmets unless ordered by a higher officer. The Commander was quite relieved at that because if he had to sleep with one of those buckets on his head he might have just shot himself with his own blaster.

"Looks like you could finally get a good night's sleep now. I am done, finally done with all of this bloody paperwork," he chuckled happily. "It took some convincing with General Greed but it was worth it. The plan is a go."

"It is?" Pitt asked in amazement as if he wasn't expecting it to have been approved. The Commander was working on this project for nearly six months. That doesn't seem like a lot but when you are a clone six months is equivalent to nearly a year and more of physical aging. The Commander was the good half of seven years old now and his body appeared of that as an eighteen year old. Clones and Storm troopers usually aren't done training until they are ten years old and definitely don't get high leadership positions until they are at least twelve. However with all of the stuff the Commander has been through in his eight years of existence he could definitely say he earned the right to be a commander of a small outpost.

"Yes, the General was rather curious as to why one of his company commanders would be so concerned about how we run things but I just told him if we kept pillaging the villages the Eastern Rebels would definitely seem like the better force to side with. We don't want the villagers to be against us especially when this planet our main food source for the legion."

"Yeah right. Those blood seeking cowards?" Pitt asked as if it was blasphemous. He collapsed down on his bed without taking his armor off. His long legs hung off the too tiny bed making him look even larger than he really was. All clones from the same genetic father are the same height however due to a development error Pitt was nearly 6 foot, the tallest soldier in the entire army. He barely fit in the outpost let alone his armor. The Central Empire was not very lenient on defects in clones or even their Storm troopers, often sticking them in far outposts never to be seen again. Avarice Battalion and especially Green Lion Company was full of them, but as long as they get their work done the Commander could have cared less where they came from. After all, he was there wasn't he?

Pitt kicked off his boots carelessly as he continued. "The Rebels ran away when all of the Jedi were killed in the capitol on Centralia. Father's the only one who tried to stop it. If you think the villagers are going to side with the genocide causing Rebel's that's a bunch of-"

"Hey, I am just saying it's a possibility," the Commander interrupted him. "With the way the Avarice Battalion were treating the villagers before, blood seeking cowards doesn't sound like a bad choice. As long as we get the other three companies on board with us, we might be able to reach our grains quota with only simple trade. You are going to thank me after all of this is through."

"Oh yeah? Who in their right mind would trade several tons of crops for just a simple bunch of seeds from a Clone Trooper of all people? Especially one that looks like he came out albino-"

"Blonde. Everyone in my vessel was born this way, stupid," the Captain snipped back.

"Hell if I know what you are. You are the only Clone I ever saw to have freaking gold eyes. Are you sure you are not a Stormy?" The Commander rolled his eyes at the lieutenant trying to push off the man's stupidity. No matter how many times he told him, Pitt would refuse to accept that the Central Empire chose someone with blond hair and gold eyes to be a DNA donor for clones. The Central Army was made of a mixture of recruits who were taken as children to be trained as soldiers and clones who were specially developed for the military. The recruits were called Storm troopers as the military was originally supposed to be named while the clones were just summed up to be called Clone Troopers. Though they worked in the same force they had rather discriminatingly different names which caused even more trouble amongst the troops.

The Empire's heads never liked to make clones that resembled the majority of their staff in case they go rogue. All of the other clone variants had dark skinned and hair of some sort but not the Commander who was as pale and blond as one could get, nearly looking like the Supreme leader himself.

The Commander picked up his own yellow emblazed helmet which rested on his desk and threw it at Pitt who just yelped as he tried to defend himself. It hit the wall near his head and fell uselessly to the mattress.

"I am not a Storm trooper you idiot," the Captain shoved off. The lieutenant just shrugged as he picked up the helmet and tossed it gently back to him.

"I know, I know, but still. How will you get them to accept the offer? Even in the Central Empire we Clones aren't really considered valuable," he said, "Expandable really."

"No one's expendable, not it Green Lion Company," he scolded him lightly. "I am just going to have to try I guess. Besides, compared to pillaging villages and burning the place down, don't you think getting seeds would be a little more of an acceptable offer?"

"Hey, you never know. They are very superstitious. They could think they are cursed."

"The only thing cursed about these seeds is that they weren't made sooner. I took their design right off of the cloning process that made you and me. They grow three times as fast as regular seeds and are twice as fertile. They would be idiots not to take them."

"With your brains I would have thought they would have put you in the Acedia Corps not the Extravagance Corps. You must have fucked up big time to get sent here," Pitt laughed at him. The Commander frowned slightly and looked away, finding much more interest in cleaning off his desk than he did before. The smile on Pitt's face slowly faded as he realised what he said. "Oh… Sir… I…-"

"Don't call me sir you look stupid," the Commander snapped back. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. The conversation was getting to him, definitely making him feel all of those nights he stayed up before. It was a known fact between the Captain and the Lieutenant on why he came to be the commander of a small little outpost anyways. It was talked over only once when he first moved into his room with Pitt, notorious for being too curious at the wrong moments. When the Lieutenant, a Cadet at the time, saw that his left leg was metal rather than flesh like any other clones Edward told him, in gruesome detail. Pitt had a reason to be curious, anyone did. Clones were scrapped if they failed a mission to a certain extent. The Commander in a way did just that before he even became a Clone Trooper, but the Central Empire had use for him still. Lieutenant Pitt was the only one who knew about it in the Troops and the subject of how he lost it was never talked about again. It has been five and a half years since the incident, and the Captain would like to keep it unspoken of.

The Commander turned off his desk lamp and the room dimmed a bit. He moved over to his bed, gently collapsing down on it. He massaged his face tiredly and let his hair down from its bun for the evening. It was long but there wasn't anything of regulation for it since they had to keep it up in helmets all day.

"In the morning I need you to tell the squad leaders to prepare for the convoy. We can't wait too long into the season or else it would be too late," he told him. The lieutenant nodded his head, accepting the orders easily.

"Should we get in contact with the other companies?" he asked, their conversation returning back to its formality. The Commander tiredly nodded his head.

"Yes. Make sure they know we are going on our route."

…

The Commander walked through the motor pool where all of his men were trying to load the carriers with the bushels of seeds they had produced. It took very little time to make the seeds using a cloning machine that he and the Lieutenant put together for their specific creation however it seemed to be taking longer to move them than what they had hoped. They had ten villages to cover in a span of only a few days in order to collect their crops for the legion. He needed to make sure that they were ready to leave as soon as possible. Some of the men were checking off the cargo while others were fueling the vehicles to make sure they were ready for use. Some last minute maintenance was needed for one of the cruisers before they left. The Commander was angry that they were already behind schedule. He had told the Lieutenant to get the men ready for the convoy. Though he had full faith in the Lieutenant's ability to follow orders, he wasn't so faithful in the privates for getting it done.

"Sit on your own time!" he scolded a group of troopers that were hiting behind a few empty storage crates. At the sound of his voice and at the sight of his red pauldron on his uniform, the soldiers were sent scurrying back to their own work. He knew that being the Commander was definitely intimidating to the privates who had very little rank and little color to their armor, but sometimes it really came in handy. Though an officer usually wasn't out in the motor pool at all, with how far they were behind schedule, he needed to make sure all hands were on deck. If they didn't make this trip on schedule they would not only miss their deadline but also miss giving the seeds to the villagers at prime planting if they were to get another harvest in before the snow fall. If the villagers went hungry again for the winter because some of his troops were slacking off he would rip his company a new one and starve them too. He picked up an empty storage crate and tossed it onto its nearby assigned freighter.

"Put these to the back of the carrier. We would need to unload the seeds first and then we can fill the crates with the crops," he told the soldiers who were stacking them up in the ships. They all answered with a quick Yessir before the Commander was on his way again patrolling the pool for any slackers or misconduct with any of his female soldiers. As he was passing the gate once more he heard a sudden static come from the inside of his helmet.

"Captain ED-0001, this is Cadet RX-2234, over," he heard the young soldier's voice come in through the radio in his armor. The Commander lifted his wrist and pressed a button on his plating.

"RX-2234, this is ED-0001, Come in."

"Sir, we have received contact from Red Lion Company. They have sighted small groups of Rebel forces on their route, over."

"RX-2234, what is their status? over."

"Sir, they have not received hostile contact. Captain SD-0103 of Red Lion Company advises armed guard on the convoy, should we prepare?" The Commander frowned as he looked up and out of the motor pool's fences. Their outpost was located on a rather flat terrain where they could see effortlessly for miles around however, they weren't nearly close enough to any village to see any significant detail. The Commander didn't think the Rebels were stupid enough to make a direct attack on the outpost. He would have waited to see what was to come of their sudden appearance on the planet, however they needed to make the convoy now if they were going to make the quota. After giving one more look at the empty vastness of Resembool's farmland, the Commander returned to his radio.

"RX-2234, I will order the company to the armory after they are finished in the pool. Tell Captain SD-0103 to watch her ass, do you copy?"

"Yes Sir, I copy."

"Good, over and out."

The Commander frowned as he looked back at their progress on the carriers. They were still far behind and now they needed to get more things done in order to arm everyone. He straightened himself out and marched to the center of the motor pool.

"COMPANY! FORM UP!" he bellowed and suddenly there was a flood of privates running towards him in their shiny white unbeaten armor. The commander waited for them to get into formation in front of him, which took a little pushing and shoving. Though all of the soldiers were older than him by a good two years, they were still bumbling fools, maybe even fresh out of the academy. Once they were all done jostling around, the Commander sighed to himself as he looked upon part of his subordinates. They all waited silently for what he was going to say.

"I have just received a transmission from Red Lion Company. Apparently they have spotted a small group of rebel forces on their convoy. Security codes are now being changed from low to high. I need all of you to stay alert while working out here and on the convoy. Resembool is one of the largest sources of food for our legion. If it goes down our Avarice Battalion and many more will surely starve. We need to protect it. We also need to finish our mission and fulfill our quota," he sternly told them. He got some quiet whoops from the formation. They were bloodthirsty and eager privates, and Edward didn't blame them. They didn't get to do much on the quiet planet. However they gravely misunderstood the idea of combat. "After you stop lollydagging and start actually working for once and get these carriers fixed and filled. All of you need to go to the Armory and take up your assigned weapons. This convoy preparation is lagging to the point that I am absolutely disgusted that you dare say that you are working. Now get your butts in gear. This is a direct order from me. Fallout," he finished.

The formation dispersed faster than it was gathered and the Commander watched the soldiers haul ass back to the carriers to finish their work. He was at least glad to see that they saw the severity in the issue. He needed to get this company on route as fast as possible. All of the other companies were already beating the early fall heat and trying out the new trading system. With the Rebel's spotted in the north he knew something was up. All of the Lion Companies out right now are in danger. The sooner they got done the sooner they would be out of danger. If the Rebels were only in the northern quadrant, he knew that they were at least safe. But he didn't know how fast those bastards could travel.

…

"Sir-"

"Lieutenant for fucking sakes don't call me sir. I don't need it from you," the Commander scolded the lower ranking officer as they roared across the landscape towards their next village on route. They had finally taken off and were able to pass through several of their villages already. It had only been a day and they had yet to see any sign of the rebel forces they were warned about. His men were all on edge, expecting an attack at any moment, but if they weren't then he would be concerned for them.

All of the villages they visited had traded rather eagerly with them after he had explained the situation and the seeds to them. The seeds, if planted within the next few days, would give them another harvest before the end of the season. He was glad to see them take them and promised the same next year.

"Captain, Blue Lion Company just spotted the rebels on their route," Pitt told him.

"Did you talk to Red Lion recently?" he asked.

"No, they didn't respond to our transmission. We tried to make contact with Yellow Lion as well but to the same result. Do you think they made contact?" The Commander frowned as he heard this suggestion. The radio transmissions were not poor at all across the planet of Resembool as there were very few mountains to block their signals. They should have been able to reach the other companies even as far away as they were. He didn't want to admit it to Pitt, but there was definitely something wrong with this scenario.

"How much crop do we have?" he asked the officer.

"Excuse me?" Pitt said, as if he didn't hear him right.

"How much crop did we collect? We went to six villages already so we should have a substantial amount. How much do we have?" he repeated. The lieutenant looked down at his clipboard which papers were battering hard in the wind that was rushing through the carrier's open doorways.

"One thousand four hundred and forty bushels, Captain." The Commander cursed as he heard that number. They needed two thousand bushels to get their portion of the quota. They needed at least two more villages to reach that. They needed to finish their route. If they had their quota and gotten a surplus at the previous villages he would have taken their troops straight back to their post. However, they needed their quota or else General Greed would pull another one over on them which would be far worse than any rebels could do to them, or even worse it could have been Lieutenant General Lust. In many cases, more than there should have been, Clones and Storm Troopers who did not fulfill their missions were scrapped, regarded as waste and killed for treason in others. However it was just stupid of him to lead them right into the enemy where there could have been ambushes set up all along their route.

He worried about the other companies in the Avarice Battalion. Resembool was an important planet, a strong hold in the support of the Central Troops however it lacked protection. Only soldiers from the Extravagance Corps who specialised in supply, transportation, and support were stationed there. Though all of them knew basic combat skills, they had little protection from the Vainglory Corps who made up nearly the entire infantry of the Central Army. The Avarice Battalion's main objective was to feed the legion. Now that Red Lion Company and Yellow Lion Company were unresponsive, it was assumingly left to only two small companies of only forty men to protect the entire planet from the Rebel forces. Since the Central Empire took over the planet, they never made an appearance on Resembool until today, and the Commander found this extremely unsettling.

"Lieutenant, what should I do?" the Commander asked suddenly which greatly offset the man more than anything.

"W-what-"

"I am asking you as a friend, what is your recommendation," he rephrased.

"I… I…," Pitt stumbled not knowing what to say. It was unheard of that a Commander would ask a simple Lieutenant anything on their opinion. Soldiers of the Central Army weren't supposed to have opinions. After a little bit he cleared his throat. "Honestly I think we should follow through with this. Though they are out there, we are armed, we can fight. We won't go down easy. We weren't programmed to fail." The Commander smiled at that comment and chuckled.

"You're right with that," he laughed.

"Captain, you made something great and giving it out to the villager's definitely will make great progress in this bare planet, not to mention make our quota that much easier to obtain. We didn't come all this way just to pass up our balls in the hallway. If they come we need to show those scum what we can do, what we are really fighting for."

"Very well," he agreed. "the next town over should be Xenotime and then Liore. Let's finish this thing."

…..

The town of Liore was very quiet and Captain ED-0001 didn't like it. The shutters were locked on some of the houses and the square just seemed abandoned. He could have assumed that it was because they were coming to take away a portion of their crops and that they didn't want to be pillaged again like all of the previous times, but even for that the town seemed too eerie. He had his men unload the seeds and put them on small transports so that they could move them through the village. The quicker they got this over with, the better it would be for all of them.

"I don't feel good about this," the Commander said to Lieutenant Pitt as he hopped off of the carrier they were riding with his blaster rifle in tow. He never really liked blasters. They were too impersonal when you killed someone. It just felt senseless. He used it to get out of the academy he was placed in and never touched one since. Pitt nodded his head as they watched the company line up the small transports. "We might have to make a run for it after we get the crop."

"You know I can't run," Pitt told him nervously.

"Well try as fast as you can, if you can't make it I will carry your ass back to the post," the Commander grumbled. It was a known fact by many that Pitt could hardly run. With him being so tall, his muscles in his legs did not adjust to the new height. He was weak running anywhere and slow even at walking. It took all he could to pass the fitness test. Many of the other Soldiers made fun of him before the Commander got there as in all reality he should have been thrown out a long time ago like all of the other defective clones. However, the Empire managed to find use for him in the outpost in the middle of Bumfucking nowhere. Central often took soldiers who weren't behaving right to retrain or be reprogrammed in a clone's case. Green Lion Company was full of people who should have went a long time ago, their Commander included, but it was never reported. Their company was full of difference and that was exactly how he liked it.

"I will hold you to that," the man smiled.

The Commander and the lieutenant started to walk towards the trading post at the end of town with first platoon in firing squad formation. He thought it to be best if they weren't just bunched up in a mess where the potential Rebel forces could have just dropped a grenade on them and be done. The Commander ordered First platoon to head out first with Blue squad and Red squad spaced out on the left and right correspondingly. Second Platoon will follow and third would guard the carriers. He knew that in this way it could have been more difficult to take them out as a group and have to try individually. However, he just hoped that his precautions didn't have to come into play. This was their last stop on their route, their last few pounds of crops they needed to gather. This was the last place they needed trouble.

Their squad lead the officers to the door, quickly securing the area around the shop. Lieutenant Pitt handed him the clipboard that he carried at his side at all times which now held the inventory that they carried with them. He took it and looked it over once as the Lieutenant took up a position by the door.

"I got us covered out here, make it quick," he told him.

"Who's the Commander here? Me or you?" the Captain snipped but the Lieutenant just waved him off. The Commander took in a huge breath as he carefully opened the door to find the shopkeeper waiting lazily behind the counter like nothing was the problem until he saw their helmets. The man was absolutely mad during the whole exchange. He started cursing the existence of the Central forces and seemed even ready to fight him one on one though armed with nothing but his bare hands. They were definitely really upset by the Battalion's past treatment. The Commander had to calm him down from an angered rant in order to even explain to him what they were trying to do. He was very offset by this idea however luckily agreed to listen. The Commander tried to give the man his description of the genetically altered seeds but the man had absolutely no knowledge of science. He thought he was trying to trick him and the Commander had to constantly rephrase himself to get the point across. It was taking nearly twice as long as it should have and he felt his nerves reach their breaking point. He mentally apologised to the Lieutenant for not listening to his orders on being quick about it.

"And why do they grow so fast?" the man asked for the thirteenth time. The commander took in a deep breath to calm his annoyance with him.

"Okay, think about it like a vehicle right?" he said stiffly. "It can keep going until it runs out of fuel just like you keep growing until you reach a certain age. We just made these seeds more efficient to reach that point faster, like me. I grow to a normal maturity of 24 years of age in only ten years. This seed can be fully grown in only a month."

"And-" the man started in for another question but he angrily cut him off.

"Look the whole idea is that we are trading you this seed for the food so that you could plant it and get another harvest in before the frost. Why is that so hard to understand!"

BOOM! There was a loud explosion from outside that rattled the entire shop and sent both him and the keeper to the ground. The dull sound of blasters firing and screaming of orders could be heard through the walls and the Commander had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He stumbled to stand up but another explosion sent him back into the counter. The Rebels were here. They were waiting for them, all of Avarice Battalion was getting hit and they were the last target.

"But where were they hiding?" The commander mumbled under his breath. The Rebel forces couldn't have flown in or else they would have seen them and his troops would have signaled. He felt himself freeze up as he realised that they were already in the town. He was an idiot, he walked the entire Green Lion Company right into the middle of a trap.

He quickly tried to unhitch his rifle from its sling but before he could reach it he was pulled back, an arm reaching around his neck choking him. The Commander gasped as he tried to pull the store owners arm off from around him but he wouldn't let go. The man was too determined.

"That was a mighty fine deal you had there but your stupid troops have been ravaging our towns for too long," the man grunted through his teeth as his arm tightened around his neck. If it wasn't for his helmet he guessed he would have felt the man's blood thirsty breath on the back of his head. His lungs burned for air and he felt himself gag as his lungs started to give out. The man was stalling the whole time. He was stalling him in the store so that the Rebels could have gotten into position. He couldn't believe he was that stupid to fall for it.

The Commander struggled to reach down to his belt and grab his rifle where it was still slung. It was bulky and he managed to misfire into the wall of the shop as he tried to swing it around his side. The bolt sizzled harmlessly into the wall creating a scorch mark where it had hit. The Commander felt the arm tighten even more and he thought his neck might have snapped under the pressure as the store owner realised what he was doing however the man was too slow to stop him. With blind aim behind him he pulled the trigger purposefully and suddenly the arms fell slack and he gulped in air greedily through the filters on his helmet. His throat was on fire as if he drank an entire flask of Lava Whiskey. Though he definitely just saved his life, quite literally his neck, he didn't even want to look behind him to see the man he just shot.

Suddenly the door to the shop opened and the Commander raised his weapon at the person charging in. Before he pulled the trigger however, he stopped himself as he saw that it was Pitt. The man started to pick him up in a rush, jabbering about something incoherent to him.

"The squad, it's gone! We don't know where they are coming from-"

"The buildings. We need to find cover. We need to get back to the carriers," he ordered him. The Commander pressed the button on his communicator and brought it up to his face.

"Third Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001, get the carriers running! Get everyone on the transports, do you copy?" he yelled into it. There was static filled silence and he felt fear lick his nerves. He pushed the button in and tried again. "Third Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001, get everyone to the transports, do you copy?" But it was to the same result. He looked over to the Lieutenant who was checking the doorway to see if the coast was clear to make it through. The Commander didn't even have to look very far to see some of the soldiers from their squad laying flat on the ground, red coating their white armor. He rushed over to the lieutenant and grabbed his shoulder.

"Pitt we need to go, now," he told him. The man nodded his head and they rushed through the doorway. They ducked behind some barrels that were outside the shop. The sound of blaster fire was loud and near deafening in their ears. They tucked their knees into their chests so that they were completely covered behind the barrels. If their legs were shot then there was definitely not way they were getting out of there.

The commander peered out from behind the barrel and he saw some rebels race across the street in their stupid blue uniforms. He never knew why they wore something so bright with little armor at all but it surely made their jobs easier when they had to be. He shot a couple blasts out of his rifle and the two men fell cold amongst the white armor of his fallen soldiers.

He felt his breath hitch as he realised how many of them scattered the street. It looked like nearly all of first platoon was gone. He couldn't hear fire from the left or right meaning that his two other squads were gone. Third platoon was unresponsive so he could only hope that second was holding out. He just didn't understand. How could the rebels have killed so many of them if they were so spread out. The mortars couldn't have wiped out his entire platoon, it wasn't possible, and the rebels riflemen were terrible shots. There was no possible way, unless….

"They have a sniper," Pitt exclaimed as he fired a few shots into the fray.

"Where?"

"Up in the second story window, few blocks down lefts side!" With his directions, the commander quickly peered around the barrels they were behind and scanned the buildings. He caught sight of an open window on a cottage few blocks down. He could just barely see the tip of a blaster sniper rifle sticking out of it when red hot bolts fired in the direction he assumed were his men. He quickly picked up his communicator and tried to contact them.

"Second Platoon, this is Captain ED-0001 come in," he said into his communicator. There was static and he felt himself hold his breath. Was anyone going to pick up? Who was left? Just as he was about to try again he heard a scratchy voice through his helmet.

"Sir, this is Sergeant DD-9980, they are creaming us out here. We have nowhere to go, stuck on the corner of third, dead end alleyway, over."

"There is a sniper up in the cottage across from you, do you think you can get them?"

"Negative, they have us pinned down, we can't move-"

"What about Specialist Sharp?" the Captain asked.

"SP-0099 is dead, sir! We don't have any other expert marksmen anymore. They're gone!" The Commander sucked in a huge breath and looked over to where the Lieutenant was covering him. She could have put it any better. They were getting creamed.

"Sergeant, try to get your men out, I will try to take care of the sniper," he told her.

"But, sir-"

"Over and out, Sergeant," he finished. He reached over and grabbed the Lieutenant's blue pauldron and shook his shoulder. "Come on, we need to get over to that building. I need you to cover me until I get to that wagon over there. I will suppress fire till you follow, alright?"

"But Sir-"

"Don't call me sir, Pitt," he scolded him, "not now." The lieutenant nodded his head and shifted his fire to the buildings on their right. The commander noticed that there were some Rebels camped out in the windows. He would have to make his run quick. As soon as Pitt started firing, he was out running towards the wagon in the middle of the street where a whole bunch of rubble was piled up from the previous motars. He ducked and dove behind the structure and assumed his own position to cover his friend. He motioned for him to follow him and he started to fire at the men in the lower windows. He managed to get one of them but his fire soon caught their attention. Pitt slammed into the wall of the rubble next to him, slouching real low as his tall figure could barely fit behind it. He was panting heavily, the short run having winded him too easily.

"Where to now, Cap?" he asked as he peered over the wall of their cover just to almost be shot in the head. The Commander yanked him down out of the way as he got up and shot another soldier out of the lower cottage window.

"Where the second artillery round hit, there was some upturned stone and a fountain that would provide enough cover for us. It's father than it was to get here. Can you make it?" he asked him.

"Ye-yeah, I think I can do that," the Lieutenant huffed as he tried to calm down his breathing. The Commander glared at him and grabbed the chestplate of his friend's armor,bringing him right close to his face.

"Can you make it?" he asked him more sternly. There was brief silence but the Lieutenant nodded his head.

"Yes, definitely." The Commander looked him over once but then nodded his head in return. They needed to make it. If they didn't take out that sniper they were all dead. The Lieutenant picked up his rifle and began to fire rapidly, giving the Commander enough time to sprint off towards the new designated destination. He saw a few rebel soldier approach on land and he gave them a few blasts to the chest as he scrambled into their new position. It was a rather large outcropping of rubble, the stone was turned up in just away that if you stood in the center you would be protected on nearly every side they could have easily placed at least three storm troopers there. However, the Commander was still questioning how far the sniper could see down the street.

The Commander quickly set up a position and motioned Pitt to follow like before. He started to fire at the last few Rebels who were camping out in the windows. He didn't hear firing from any other forces. He didn't know where Second Platoon was, if they were still there or not. They were approaching where the Sergeant said they were but he couldn't see her or her subordinates anywhere. As he shot another Rebel out of the cottage he heard a sudden yell. It was familiar and the Commander felt his heart freeze. He didn't even have to look to know what happened. The lieutenant was hit. Pitt was hit. He dared himself to glance over and saw the Lieutenant lying just a few yards away from the makeshift cover with a pool of red blooming on his white and blue armor from his hip.

"PITT!" he screamed not knowing what to do. He saw the man's panting breath's through his armor. He couldn't run fast enough. The Commander cursed himself as he wrapped the sling of his rifle around his arm and fired one last shot, clearing the windows of the Rebels in the southern section they were running through. He quickly pushed himself up and sprinted out to where the man had fallen.

"I will never lie again," the man wheezed as he held his wound. It didn't look like it hit anything vital, but it needed to get medical attention quick. The Commander touched it lightly and the man winced.

"Shut up you idiot," the Commander scolded him and quickly lifted the man up slinging him over his shoulders. The man weighed a ton since he was so tall, but he forced himself to carry on. The man yelped as his wound was digging into his shoulder. Sprinting as fast as he could, he carried the man to cover and nearly threw him in before tumbling in after him. The lieutenant screamed as he landed, his wound jarring even more, spewing out what little part of it wasn't cauterized by the heat of the bolt. The Commander scurried over to him, keeping his head down incase there were any bolts aimed for it.

"I hate being so fucking slow," he groaned as the Commander started to rip off his armor to get a better look at it. Luckily their black under armor was designed to also work as a compression bandage as it was skin tight. He tossed the heavy armor to the side and looked at him. He was bleeding, badly, but it seemed to be only a couple inches deep, the armor taking most of the blow. To have penetrated their armor the bolts must have been high caliber or else they would have just dispersed like a huge sock in the stomach, leaving you breathless, but alive. The commander reached into his small personal medical kit and pulled out some creme to cleanse the wound as much as he could at that moment.

"Shut up, you will live," he huffed at the lieutenant as the man started whimper as he massaged the paste in as best as he could. It was nasty stuff and burned like hell, but if it kept you alive for a little longer they would do anything. "I promised that I would get you out of here didn't I? Even if I had to carry you."

"Cap…," the man mumbled after a long pause where the Commander was able to bandage his wounds up a bit. "I don't think any of us are getting out of here."

"Don't say that, Lieutenant-"

"You know it's true!" Pitt retorted.

"Yeah? Well I still don't need you to say it!" he yelled at him. "I am going to get you out of here! We will find second platoon and -"

"Sir-"

"Don't call me Sir!" the Commander shouted. However just as he finished he heard a hot sizzling crackle through the air. A red bolt of fire pierced his shoulder right between his plating and he was sent flying backwards with the force. He screamed as he felt the bolt burn his skin, his muscles, and even his bones as it went straight through him. He hit the ground and he felt his entire right arm go numb. He cursed the high heavens as he held his useless shoulder in pain.

"Sir!"

"Fuck off Pitt!" the commander cursed at him, fire and anger breathing out his nose. Keeping his head down he crawled back over to where Pitt was laying, rubbing dirt in his wound along the way. He go to Pitt's side and flipped over on his back. "Lieutenant, I need your communicator-"

"My.. but why-"

"I can't move my arm," The commander admitted to him.

"Your arm-" the lieutenant started but cut himself off as the commander nodded his head. He couldn't feel it at all. He didn't know if it was because of the bolt's energy, his adrenaline, or because it really was busted but he couldn't use it. He would have used his own communicator but he couldn't push the button if it was on his left arm and his right was out of use. Pitt, after a moment of acceptance, leaned over and held his arm near the commander's face. The Captain pressed the button with his working hand and called into it.

"Green Lion Company, this is Captain ED-0001, I am ordering all remaining troops to find safety. Get out of here if you can and return to the post, do you copy?" he said to anyone who would listen. There was static, but the lines were all silent. He felt a lump in his throat stick and he tried to clear it as he pressed the button again. "Green Lion Company-"

"Sir," he heard the Lieutenant's voice mumbled through his helmet. The commander looked up from where he sat and over to his partner. The blue emblazonment and pauldron symbolizing his rank and position stood dirty, bloody, from their failure of a mission. The commander could almost see the hurt in the clone's eyes through the dusty helmet on his head. They were pained, but not of his wound, of something even more substantial than that. "Sir, I… I think we are done."

The commander felt his entire being go numb as he looked around. The village that they were planning to feed, to save in a sense, stood in rubble from the fire fight. There was broken down buildings, fires scattered. Their whole plan was in ruins with nothing to show for it. All he wanted to do was to change it, to make it better, but now like Pitt had said, they were done. He didn't know how many soldiers died so far, but he knew in his heart that Green Lion Company was no more. He heard the patter of feet behind him and the light humming of charged weapons. He looked behind him to see the disgusting blue uniform of Rebel soldiers, pointing their blasters at them. Doubting they were set to stun, the Commander saw the Lieutenant raise his arms in the air. The Commander of Green Lion Company, Captain ED-0001, regretfully followed suite. They were through.


	2. The Things He Learned

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter Two

The Things He Learned

Captain ED-0001, the newly appointed leader of Green Lion Company, took a huge breath as the pilot of the flyer he was in landed the ship on the small green planet. Looking out the window he could see rolling hills and lush grass, all that he never saw before at the Officer Candidate School that he was stuck at for one year now. During the six and a half years he had been alive, he had never seen so much green so up close, only getting small looks at passing planets from the space station he had been locked away in for such a long time. Now he got to work here of all places.

The Captain was only a little upset to be in charge of such a small company. He didn't care too much since one wasn't to question orders or have an opinion in the Clone Troops but if he were to have one, he rather would have not been assigned to practically farm his way through his career. It felt like life time imprisonment to him and it wasn't how he wanted to be spending the few years he had left of his childhood.

The ship stopped in motor pool of the small outpost and the Captain hopped out of it in his plain white armour. He didn't get assigned his new uniform until he got to the unit and he just wanted to say he was glad to get one soon. Having had this for nearly six months already made it small on him, clones growing pretty fast until they are at least ten.

He ran a bit to give the ship room and waved him off, the pilot kicking the ship in gear and taking away his only way off that tiny planet. Yeah, it felt more like imprisonment every second he was there. The Captain pulled himself together and straightened out a bit. If he was going to meet his new troops he better at least look the part of a Commanding Officer. He walked towards the main building where he assumed everyone was gathered as it was 12:30, lunch hour. He could only guess where the dining facility was in that place.

The Captain made it a little ways into the building not able to find a single speck of life at all on his walk. In fact, he imagined himself as getting lost. Just as he was debating on whether to turn back and wait for someone out in the lobby, he heard rather loud voices coming from the other hallway. They sounded rough and he heard scuffing of some sort, making him pick up his pace to see what it could have been. He rounded the corner just to find himself in the back hallway of what seemed to be the locker rooms near the armory. A group of what appeared to be Storm Troopers were gathered around what seemed to be a little white lump on the floor. It took only half a second for the Captain to recognise that it was a soldier, a cadet no less with a small insignificant white pauldron on his uniform. One of the privates was standing menacingly toward him, getting ready to kick him one more time though a green striped Sergeant was trying to hold him back. No one else in the crowd was even doing anything and the Captain felt his blood boil as he stormed towards them, pushing some of the soldiers roughly out of the way who were just gathered around.

"What's going on here?" the Captain yelled and silence took over the hallway stilling the crowd.

"That filthy clone wanted to flag me for not exercising the transports today when I did them yesterday-"

"You d-didn't record them! You need to fill out the-"

"It doesn't matter, you test tube freak. I did my job unlike you!" the soldier growled and pushed passed the Sergeant trying to get another shot at the Cadet but the Commander stepped in front of him stopping him in his tracks.

"Making sure your work is done, and done correctly is his job. If I am not mistaken he is an officer so you should treat him with respect," he scolded the man.

"He's a clone that just get's programmed to do the easy work. We Storm troopers have to train and learn all by ourselves just to get told by a defected half human creature how to do our jobs!" The Commander frowned and glared at the soldier through his helmet. He knew that there was always soldiers who didn't like clones, they were afraid of them, they couldn't understand them, but he wondered what the last commander was doing to let the fighting get this bad, this physical. The Commander straightened himself out, making himself stand a little taller as if to size up the other soldier.

"What is your number Private?" he asked stiffly.

"RD-9999," the man answered.

"Very well, Private RD-9999, remove your helmet," he ordered him, which undoubtedly made the soldier look around stupidly. By Central Army regulation they weren't allowed to remove their helmets unless in their barracks, eating lunch, or ordered to by a higher officer. Since they weren't doing any and the Captain wasn't issued his pauldron or new armor yet, the Private just chuckled stupidly with a malicious grin on his face.

"Who do you think you are you little ass hole? I could drop kick you to the moon if you try pulling tricks on me you little runt."

"How about I kick you in the balls and then we will see who's taller?" the Captain yelled at him. "I would have liked to see a little courtesy when talking to your commanding officer." The man froze and he heard whispers pick up around the hallway and the Captain spotted a couple soldiers sneak away as they didn't want to be objectified to so much tension. Even the private under question seemed skittish however before he could imagine to do anything the Captain grabbed him by his chest plate and pulled him down to his level and spat, "Now, I order you one more time, RD-9999, take off your helmet."

The soldier faltered, conflicted with his sudden fear and obeying the orders of his newly arrived Commanding officer. Flusteredly he lifted his hands up and pulled off his helmet to reveal a face that barely saw the light of day having been hidden behind his helmet all the time. He was a old looking soldier with burning red hair, nearly thirty five at the commander's guess who was questioning why in the world he was still a private at that age. He looked like he was trying to keep a straight face but his cheeks were red with embarrassment and anger while his eyes fell fear. To the Commander it was a hilarious thing to see as it nearly made him look constipated.

"Yes, let's see here," the Commander muttered as he stared at him. "Two eyes, Two ears, a nose, a mouth, and a body, which we all could see works pretty well from how you were dealing with the cadet over there." The private frowned at his observation, not really understanding what he was getting at. "Yes, there doesn't seem anything special about you, nothing that would deem you abnormal," the Commander continued with a pause. With an accepting nod of his head, the Captain reached up and pulled off his own helmet. The oogling eyes of everyone around froze on him and he saw the private's face go pale slightly as he looked him over. Everything from his golden hair to his golden eyes seemed to be a punch in the face for them, but ignoring the stupified looks on their faces, he continued.

"I have two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, and a good working body just like you," he announced. "We are the same. We are exactly the same because we are people. The only difference between us is that you came from a mother and I came from a father. That is it-"

"But you can't be a clone, they don't make clones like you-" the private stumbled accusingly and the Captain glared even harder at him.

"Check again," he seethed, pulling down his collar to show the intricate emblazonment on his neck. All clones were branded with elemental symbols, different for each variant of clone. It was a way to record their programming and creation. Though all soldiers, both storm and clone, had chips in their left wrists for identification and record of orders, clone development was something too important to hold in a file. If it fell into enemy hands the Central Empire feared that the rebels would try to copy it and make their own forces. So, in this way, it was coded and with the individual at all times in case of malfunction in the programming. To be branded with a hot iron was excruciatingly painful and left the individual with a raw burn for several weeks. Everyone knew what the marks looked like, and all new what they meant, they weren't fully normal, though the Commander tried to tell everyone differently.

"We are all the same," the Commander said, straightening himself out and pulling his collar back up over his scars. "We all look the same, we all talk the same, we all think the same, we are all trained the same. When we put these uniforms on, we are all the same. We need to work as a unit, as a whole, not in parts of one versus the other. Our duty is to protect this outpost and feed the legion. We can't do that if we are fighting each other about who is who or what is what. When we put these uniforms on we must work as a unit, as a family. If we can't do that we are dead." The hallway was eerily silent and the Captain looked around at where everyone stood dumbfounded. Even the Cadet who was dawning a bloody nose and a black eye, as his helmet was knocked off in the scuffle, was silent in his sufferings. The Captain tucked his pony tail up and placed his helmet back on his head before turning to RD-9999.

"Put your helmet back on and return to work," he ordered him cooly. "Next time remember your place with those who out rank you." The soldier quickly fumbled to but his helmet back on and gave a tight nervous salute before racing down the hallway with all of the other Privates in tow. The place was emptied rather quickly and the Captain felt the tension alleviate rather quickly now that it was empty. He let out a tired sigh and rubbed the back of his neck before turning to the Cadet who was still on the floor.

He held out his arm for him and the man grabbed it and stood up, accidentally letting out a little groan as his sore body seemed to be kicking itself even more than the Private did. He was a little surprised to see how tall he was, towering over him like a building. For a clone he was rather tall and the Captain was still growing as he was only 6.5 years old. He had to bend backwards to even look at the guy. His hair was curly though it was cut short, making the Commander guess that if it went unmaintained it would have been a brown bushy mop. He was fully matured for a clone, probably quite a few years older than him.

"So, what's your number?" he asked him gently as he watched the soldier put on his helmet, hiding his broken face from view.

"Uh, Cadet PT-3149 sir," he mumbled.

"Captain ED-0001," he introduced back. He was glad to finally be able to get an introductory without ordering it from them and sending the person running away. However, from his little scene before hand, the Cadet seemed very nervous to even be standing next to him despite their height difference and the fact that he could probably squish him like a flea. The Commander cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to continue the conversation, which was heavily one sided. "You were getting your ass kicked, weren't you ever going to fight back?" The Cadet just looked away as if he was ashamed and the Commander sighed in defeat. He wasn't going to get anything out of him now.

"Well, just be glad that the Sergeant here and I stopped him." He turned towards where the young Sergeant was still standing. "So, what's your number?"

"Sergeant First Class DD-9980, Sir," she said to him stiffly. "My men just call me Sergeant Desden. I am in charge of Second Platoon, sir."

"Desden?" he questioned.

"Yes sir. It is faster than by number. Many of the soldiers here picked their own names though in radio communication and formality we still use numbers," she answered.

"Why don't they just call you Double D?" he asked innocently.

"Sir, why don't they just call you one inch?"

"I am not one inch tall!"

"I wasn't talking about your height," she muttered underneath her breath. PT-3149 started to snicker a bit at his expense. The Commander froze for a minute as he felt himself grow slightly red, realising what he just said. He just thought it would have been a neat nickname but in her case he guessed it wasn't. He quickly apologised just making the Sergeant and Cadet laugh harder at his flustering.

"Don't worry, sir. I think we have more important matters than to discuss my name," Desden told him.

"PT-3149, what's your name?" the Captain asked.

"I don't have one, sir," the Cadet admitted.

"You don't have one?"

"No. I don't really care what I am called, sir. Many people have different names for me," he told him.

"Very well, I will come up with something soon enough right?" he chuckled lightly. The Cadet nodded his head in acceptance and the Captain frowned slightly. He bet that not all of the names people gave him were very nice at all. The Cadet needed to earn some confidence in himself. But first things are first.

"Well, Cadet, let's get you to medical. I think a good ointment would be in order for that eye, or at least a tissue or something for your nose, if it isn't already broken," he said, giving the man a light pat on the shoulder but the cadet flinched and yelped as he aggravated his wounds. The Commander quickly apologised and lead him down the hallway with the Sergeant behind him.

"Sir do you even know where to go?" the Cadet asked as he had to pull the Commander in the right direction when they turned the corner.

"No. I am completely lost."

…..

The Commander sighed as he straightened out his pauldron on his shoulder. He finally got his new uniform after dropping PT-3149 off at medical. It was comfortable unlike his other one which was too tight and he was glad for the change. The Lieutenant in the office said that his other sets were going to be sent to his room from the armory where they were stored. After turning in his paperwork for nearly everything on the face of the earth, he was given directions to the barracks and was off. He was told that he would be sharing a room, which he didn't mind at all. Up in the space station and even at Central Command he shared rooms with his friends and even the other clones he grew up with. However he just wondered who in the world he was stuck with this time. He cruised down the twisted hallways of the outpost and managed to find his room 310A with little effort, only getting lost once.

The commander scanned his left wrist by the door and it opened to his identification, sliding to the left. As the door opened he was smacked in the face with a pillow that someone seemed to be using as a projectile at that very moment. It hit his helmet and fell uselessly to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Sir-" he heard the familiar voice of PT-3149 exclaim in shock as the Commander stepped effortlessly over the pillow and into the half used room.

"If you are planning on fighting rebel soldiers you are going to need more than a pillow," he sighed as he picked it up off of the ground and tossed it back in the Cadet's face.

"S-sorry sir," the clone muttered. The Commander rolled his eyes and took off his helmet, setting it gingerly down on the desk. The Cadet looked a bit confused as to what he was doing but he didn't seem to want to ask.

"So, what are you throwing pillows for?" the Commander asked instead as he jumped on the empty bed and relaxed a bit. The room was relatively neat, only a little messy on the Cadet's side because of use but other than a few stray socks everything was in order.

"Nothing-"

"is it about that fight earlier-"

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't say no."

"I didn't say yes!"

"You're showing all the signs of denial-"

"Maybe it's cause you're too short to see my expression, sir," the Cadet retorted dumbly to a higher ranking officer. The Commander quickly grabbed his own pillow from underneath his head and chucked it at the man's head. It his straight on target and fell to the Cadet's lap uselessly.

"I am not short! I am only six!" he argued. There was a moment where they just angrily glared at each other but before long the Cadet rolled his eyes and slumped down on his bed pitifully. The Captain frowned as he watched the poor display and he slowly laid back down on his own bed.

"Why didn't you fight back earlier?" the commander asked gently cutting right to the chase.

"Did you see who I was up against, sir?! I couldn't win against that monster!-"

"So you just gave up-"

"It was a choice of getting beaten to a pulp or getting beaten out of existence if I fought," he told him honestly. "He is a hot headed idiot who doesn't understand anything about orders but unfortunately I am not any good at fighting."

"And running wasn't an option because…" the Commander pressed and he saw the Cadet grow a little red in the face and he turned away from him as if to hide it.

"I am a terrible coward. I can't run away. Not only do I don't want to run away, but my legs can't take it. You should see my Physical Fitness score it's an absolute train wreck," the cadet told him. "However, if i had a blaster…"

"Nope, no shooting your coworkers, cadet," the commander laughed watching the man's false disappointment cross over his face. "How did you pass the academy if you can't run?" There was a moment of silence and the Cadet frowned.

"I.. I did not pass sir," he admitted. "The Empire just needed more men sir, after the massacre on Ishval. They… didn't care. They just decided to stick me here and transfer someone else out in my place. Resembool is like the dumpyard for the unwanted. I am no use in a fight because I am just a defective clone, like Red was saying."

"Just a clone?" the Commander asked, sitting up on the bed. The cadet nodded his head numbly. "There is no just. Don't limit yourself to what others think of you-"

"But what if I think it too-"

"We aren't defective, it is impossible for us to be defective. We weren't designed to fail," the Commander scolded him. "If you think otherwise you are just turning yourself into a pit you can't climb out of." The Commander stood up and let the Cadet mull over his words for a few minutes. He was obviously conflicted with himself so he was going to give him time. The Commander grabbed his helmet and put it on, fucking his hair up into it.

"Sir-" the Cadet started to say but he cut him off.

"I am younger than you. Please don't call me sir. It would be so annoying living with you and only to be called sir," he told him. He walked towards the door and opened it up however before he could leave the room the Cadet called out to him.

"Captain," he said, making the Commander turn around where he stood, "why are you so optimistic about us?" The Commander sighed and rubbed the back of his neck in defeat.

"Out of survival really. With all the shit that happened to me so far it made me realize two things that are always true in the world no matter who you are. We all fight for one cause or another, and we are all going to die on a battlefield," the Captain admitted. "Try to cheer up Pitt, we are all in it together."

…

The Commander stared horrified at the bodies that were strewn across the village. He saw their white armor hanging out of doorways, laying in allies, and stained in red. The bodies were completely unidentifiable amongst each other only to be recognised as a pile of corpses for a lost cause. He felt his heart nearly freeze over as he couldn't tear his eyes away. First Platoon, Second, Third, his entire company was gone. The stench of war filled his nose and made his eyes water from the scent. He forced himself to look down at his own feet, focusing on each of the steps he took as he was pushed forward towards an unknown destination. The Lieutenant was draped over his damaged shoulder as he supported the man as they walked. They were both hurting terribly, but they couldn't let the rebels see how defeated they really were, so he dragged the Lieutenant on.

He felt the tip of a blaster pressed into his back plates as he was ushered towards the end of town where their ships used to be but now there just stood a pillar of flames. He caught sight of a couple rebel convoys pulling up from their hiding places in various farmer's barns and shacks. The rebel soldiers who didn't scatter the ground filled the streets and cleared them of any remaining members of Green Lion Company. The Commander spotted a small herd of his men held under guard with their hands in the air. He noticed one to be Sergeant Dresden and a few of her men from Second. The Commander and the Lieutenant were shoved into the small herd and he felt the armed rebels burn holes in them with their disgusted expressions. He wished he could have blasted those looks off of all of their faces however the rebels had their blasters and all of their other weapons. There was nothing that any of them could do.

"Sir," Sergeant Dresden said as she moved through the crowd towards him, "I thought you were dead. We didn't hear from you since."

"Give me some credit, Sergeant," the Commander grumbled back at her, his voice betraying his desperation. "I need a LACE report, now."

"But… sir this is all-"

"Please Sergeant, just please," he begged her. He knew it was bad. He knew they were done, but he needed to hear their status to stop the terrible hope in his chest that other soldiers had made it out in time. The Sergeant straightened up a little and the Commander could see that she was hurting, just noticing the blood coming out of her forearm which was held limply by her side, much like his own useless arm.

"Liquids red, Ammunition red, Casualties 32 dead 8 wounded, Equipment… red, sir," she told him like it was a funeral march. Each status hit him in the heart slowly crushing the false hope that they would ever get out of there. There was only eight of them left from their entire company. He turned his head and looked behind him where the scene of battle torn corpses befell him.

"I apologise to you and your platoon, Sergeant," the commander said of nothing above a whisper.

"Sir, you shouldn't be apologising-"

"I should have turned around Dresden," he admitted to her solemnly but to his surprise she just let out a weak chuckle.

"No one would have guessed it to be this bad, sir. I would have continued as well," she said.

"As would I," he heard another soldier say, a private this time who's arm was held up to his chest by a makeshift sling from his blaster sling.

"Me too," another said, his leg bloodied to a pulp from what appeared to be a mortar.

"Sir," he heard the familiar voice of RD-9999 in the small crowd. He was clutching his side and only seemed to be standing due to the aid of another battle buddy. His helmet was off, probably blow off at some point in the fight, but he wore the most sincere look on his face. Over all off the fights he had ever had with the hot headed stormtrooper he had never seen him so defeated before, or even so hopeful. The man smiled weakly at him from the distance they were at and the Commander felt himself press his lips together as he watched him. "It was a mighty good thing you tried to do. I… I enjoyed working under your command."

"Sir," he heard Pitt say softly to him, knowing exactly what he was thinking. The Commander nodded his head and took in a huge breath of grime filled air.

"Very well," he muttered not really knowing what to say next. "Thank you, all of you." The crowd nodded their heads to him and he sighed as he looked over to the Lieutenant. He found an outcropped rock where he was able to lay Pitt down in order to help prevent him from testing his injury too much. He might as well start to try and save the few of his men who were left so they didn't fall to the same fate as the rest of them. As he stood up to look at the other men he heard some scuffling beyond the wall of blasters that was pointed at him. He saw a couple rather decorated rebel's approach them. There was a hungry look in the eyes of the tall long black haired one. He had a pleasant smile on his face as if the blood and destruction he smelled around him was a sweetened perfume. He approached the line of guards and his two wingmen quickly entered grabbing him roughly by the shoulders. The Commander let out a small groan as his right injury was taunted but the men didn't care, they practically dragged him out of the circle and delivered him right to where the man was waiting. He heard some of his men let out concerned yells for him however there was no way he could have fought the rebel soldiers with no weapon and only one working arm. The man grinned down at him from his height and bent over to be eye level with him.

"Are you the commander of this mess?" the man smirked at him, his smooth voice nearly sickening.

"This mess is my Company, if you would treat them with some respect," the Commander hissed at him.

"Ah, so you are the commander after all," the man smiled, ignoring his statement completely. "I am Major Zwolf J. Kimblee. I am in charge of this little entourage for now and, well, I quite frankly need you."

"For what?" The Commander asked skeptically.

"Just a few questions, nothing personal."

"You come here and slaughter my men. I am going to take this very personally. You can count on that," he growled at him.

"Don't worry about your company, sir, we will treat them fairly." The Captain suddenly felt his arm being yanked back into a pair of cuffs. He hissed slightly as his shoulder was pulled again and he felt the cuffs lock around his wrists.

"Hey-"

"Take him to the ship. I will have everyone finish up here," he heard the man order. There was a shove and the Commander was being pushed off towards the waiting rebel carriers.

"Hey! I am not done yet!" The commander yelled and twisted a bit trying to fight the men's hold on him. He didn't want to be taken by some rebel scum, he needed to stay with his company. Screams and yells picked up as the rest of Green Lion Company called out for him, worried on where he was being taken. He heard Pitt's angered cries above the rest and the Commander struggled against the men to see his soldiers. However just as he turned around he saw the ring of rebel soldiers lift their blasters and aim carefully. His heart stopped and time seemed to freeze over as he saw Major Kimblee gleaming furiously at him. It was knowing and it dripped with a bloodlust that chilled him to the bone. He saw the troops huddled together, holding up each other like they wanted to fight, like they were going to jump against the odds even in their injured state just how he taught them.

"NO!" he screamed for them when suddenly the soldiers started to fire. One by one the remaining soldiers of Green Lion Company drop to the ground in a fury of red bolts. He felt his legs go limp as he saw the blue pauldron of Pitt laying on the cold hard dirt, his helmet looking at him. The Commander wanted to run over to them, he wanted to help them all, but they were still and lifeless, he knew there was nothing he could do. The Commander gave out and he fell out of the to the ground as his heart started to freeze over. They all fought so hard and this was what it came down to, a damaged village and pointless deaths for an unsucceeded cause. He felt his eyes water up underneath his helmet and he couldn't contain himself. There was a chuckling next to him as the Major started to walk towards the ship that the men were trying to take him to. His smile made the Commander burn with anger but yet fear was what had overtaken him as he looked down upon him.

"Come on sir, they were expendable after all right? That's all you soldiers are made for," Kimblee grinned as he passed by. Hands grabbed his shoulders again and lifted him up to his feet. The Commander didn't know how he was able to stand but he was pushed towards the ship roughly and his feet stumbled blindly with the orders. He choked down a cry that was rising up his throat as he bit his lip trying to contain it. Yes, there was now three things that Captain ED-0001 the Commander of Green Lion Company had learned in his near 8 years of existence. One, no matter who you are you are all fighting for one thing or ,you will all die on a battlefield. Three, no matter how many pieces your heart is already in, the world finds ways to make them more.


	3. In the Hands of the Enemy

_Authour's Note: Hello. I have been writing a lot recently for this. That is because I am super excited. I think it is because I recently took my friend to see the new starwars episode that just came out and she was so fangirling over Poe and Finn. Well, though I really like that movie and encourage everyone else to go see it if they didn't already, I wanted to say that I got inspiration of this story by watching Star Wars the Clone Wars television show. My friend had it on in the background one day in his dorm room and I just watched the episode Carnage of Krell. Though I always loved Clone Troopers more than anything in the entire starwars universe, this episode and the few preceding it really made me realise how kickass they really are. So I spent two days and wrote out the entire plot of this story along with some character relations and backgrounds. Yes, I definitely am excited for this story._

A Different Type of Soldier

Part One

Chapter Three

In the Hands of the Enemy

Captain ED-0001, Commander and last surviving member of Green Lion Company and the Avarice Battalion, didn't know how far he was taken or where but he didn't care. He was boarded onto two different ships already and into many different and cramped confinement cells. They held him under lock and key, only once taking his handcuffs off just to replace them with sturdier stockades. The rebels didn't trust them, nor him they. They often spat insults under their breath as they passed his cell or knocked on his door and it made the Captain wonder who of them really was the monster. They had slaughtered surrendering prisoners of war, they had destroyed a town that the Avarice Battalion was trying to aid, and each hour that ticked by they took him farther and farther away from the one planet he actually felt he belonged to. He had to ingrain it in his heart that he was never going to see that planet nor his company ever again however he felt like it was already too full of scars to keep track of one more.

Pitt was gone, Dresden and even Red were all gone and the Captain couldn't help but wish he were too. He didn't kill them but he felt like their blood was on his hands, staining them beyond cleansing. He found himself constantly through the voyage trying to wipe his hands clean on his pants or on the walls of the cell. His uniform, once a crisp white and yellow, was stained red with the Lieutenant's blood from when he tried to patch his wound. He wanted to get it off, but then… it was the last thing he had of Green Lion Company. It seemed childish, but without it there the Captain felt like all of what happened would have just faded into a dream, like it never really happened. Like the Lieutenant would just walk right through the doors of the cell and take him out of there.

The doors did open eventually, but it wasn't the Lieutenant, the Sergeant, or anyone from Green Lion Company. It was those cruel and ghastly blue uniformed rebels who each had a blaster pointed at him. The Commander stood up as directed and they lead him out of the room. He couldn't even put up a fight if he wanted to, not now. They lead him out of his cell and down the dark corridor a little ways until he spotted a face he wished he would never meet again.

"Hello Captain, how are you doing today?" the slimy voice of Kimblee asked with a false smile on his face. The Commander chose to ignore him and looked away, not giving him the reaction he wanted. The man frowned and hummed to himself as he pressed a button on the wall. The door of the ship opened and the Commander had to blink his eyes to keep from being blinded by the sudden light that was entering the ship. He felt a sticky warm breeze race through the doorway and fresh air entered his helmet making him realise that they had landed on a planet. He was shoved forward before he could even make sense of what laid beyond the doorway and he staggered down the ramp and onto the malleable ground that gave way under his clumsy false left foot. He fell to the ground just to meet sand on the way down. His captor's stared at him in disbelief and he heard many other people around them snicker and comment. He looked around to see himself at what seemed to be a port. Several fighter ships and carriers were docked in the motor pool with mechanics huddled over the engines and people mulling about for one task or another. The sun beat down on the base and the Captain already felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he stared into the distant haze. This was a desert planet with nothing but dirt and sand through its entire plane.

Suddenly he heard a clank on his helmet as something hit off of it. He looked around curiously and then something else hit his hand, stinging it from the force. A booing and jeering started to arise and the Captain was quickly lifted on his feet by the guards. Some of the rebels were picking up stones from the ground and tossing them at him. One smacked him right in his shoulder and he growled as a roaring pain rushed through him. Victor's cheered at the look of him in pain. The guards around him tried to get the people to stop but Kimblee was paying no mind to them at all.

"You're the one who destroyed our home!" someone yelled.

"You killed my son!"

"Murderer!"

"I don't know you!" the Commander exclaimed but the guard just shoved his head down and pushed him forward as he was shoved into a doorway of what seemed to be a base. Cool air hit him as it seemed to be air conditioned. The walls were clay and the hallways were thin, barely even being able to hold two people across without hassle. Kimblee lead him through the corridors until they entered yet another confinement block. He saw some strange people occupying the cells, which had clear laser field doors. He spotted a creepy looking man with glasses in one and what seemed to be a rogue robot in another. However as they walked deeper into the block the cells became smaller and empty. Kimblee typed a number code on one of the cells as he was trying to open the door but a sudden loud buzz went off and the man groaned in annoyance.

"What is it now?" he growled as he tried again just to get the same result. The Captain smiled a bit as did the other guards and the man's expense.

"Technical difficulties?" he smirked smartly. The man glared at him before he pressed the center button. A blue light erupted out of the system and a hologram suddenly took form of a young black haired rebel soldier with glasses skewed on his face. The digital man quickly pushed up his glasses and jumped a little bit when he caught sight of the Major, making the Captain snicker a little bit at the reaction.

"Uh… uh, sir-"

"What, sergeant?" Kimblee hissed annoyed with his sudden appearance. The hologram flustered around with some papers in its hands and the Sergeant read over them quickly, scanning for some purpose as to interrupt this man's job.

"Um, s-sir, a-all prisoners a-are supposed to be taken to medical before th-they are put in their cells," the Sergeant said nervously.

"Open the door, Sergeant, this one is fine," Kimblee ordered. With a glare he was giving him the Sergeant quickly signed off before the Captain had any room for protest. The door opened and Kimblee took him by the chest plate and threw him into yet another cell before storming out. He stumbled and fell to the ground jarring his shoulder even more, making him curse to the high heavens. His arm was still numb but the shoulder was on fire even more than it was when he actually got hit. He heard a humm start up behind him and he turned to see that they had reactivated the field to lock him in. He scrambled up and scurried towards the door but one of the Guards stopped him before he got to it.

"Whoa, hey, don't touch that. It's set to stun you will knock yourself out before you're able to do anything," he warned. The Captain froze as he stared at it, the light blue haze buzzing its current from one side of the wall to the other. Kimblee approached it and smirked at him, the evil eyes bearing through his helmet.

"Just sit tight there, sir," he spat the last word, "someone will be here to talk to you."

….

The Captain had been sitting in the cell for what felt like ages. He tried to use his time to sleep however his body couldn't even seem to do that right. His mind kept jumping back to Liore and the corpses that now scattered its lawn. He couldn't sleep, not with that. So he used his time lying down on the hard bench in the cell and staring at the ceiling as it seemed the only thing he could do at that moment.

It had been what felt like several hours before he heard foot steps approach the door of his cell. They didn't enter, but just stopped at the door so they could stare at him from afar. The Captain tried to ignore them but it felt like an itch that would never go away knowing that there was someone just gazing at him like an animal at the zoo. He angrily sat up on the bench he was sitting on and glared back at the man from across the way. He found the man to be rather tall with dark shaggy hair and black eyes that pierced through his armor. The Captain felt rather intimidated by him but he tried not to let it show. How glad was he that he was still wearing his helmet. The man cleared his voice after a few long seconds and stood a little straighter.

Captain, I am Colonel Roy Mustang-"

"I don't care," the Captain Interrupted the man coolly. The Colonel just glared harder at him though it obviously looked like he was trying to also keep himself contained.

"Captain what is your name and number?" The man continued.

"ED-0001, I have no other name I want to use."

"I don't care about preference," the man retorted making the Captain smirk a little. There was a long line of silence and he eventually returned his gaze to the floor.

"We need to ask you some questions-"

"Which i completely don't understand," the Captain chuckled harshly at the man. "I am a clone from one of the lowest ranking battalions in the Empire do you really think i have the answers you are looking for?"

"I do-"

"You're desperate," he concluded. The man seethed at him and completely disregarded his statement.

"You were the only one in your company to make it out, Captain. Therefore all questioning falls to you." The Captain froze as he heard the man's statement and he felt himself heat up in absolute anger. He jumped up from where he sat on the bench and stormed over to the door. He was so close to it he could practically feel the electricity through his helmet.

"Don't get your information wrong, sir," he spat at the higher ranking man. "I was not by far the only one to have made it out. Your men, who everyone in that town believed to be saviors, slaughtered the last of my company when they had harmlessly surrendered. I was standing right next to them moments before and now you are trying to tell me that they all died because of battle alone?! Dont underestimate my men for your stupid pride."

"If there were any more prisoners alive my men would have brought them here as was ordered," the man argued."Your men were ordered to murder unarmed surrendered troops!" He yelled at him, his voice echoing through the hallway. He felt like he wanted to strangle him and he probably would have if it weren't for the force field blocking him from reaching the man's throat and the fact that his arms were bound and one of them lame. The Colonel seemed completely taken aback by his statement and the Captain just glared even hard at him as if hoping to make his point. However, the Colonel's eyes slowly started to drop from his down to his shoulder which was still bloodied and torn. Seeing him eye his injury, the Captain turned away a little bit as if to hide it from view. The Colonel seemed to grow angry but strangely at someone other than him. He thought he heard a curse escape the man's lips as he typed a few codes into the panel near his door. A hologram quickly popped up of the same little Sergeant as before. The little man was a little startled at the Colonel's rather furious expression.

"Fuery, get every soldier who just returned from the trip into the conference room. Bring some guards down to cellblock five to escort Captain ED-0001 to medical, and send Kimblee to the general's office immediately," the man ordered. The Sergeant stumbled around with his papers but quickly signed off with a yes sir. As soon as the hologram disappeared the Colonel let out an aggravated breath.

"If looks like your interrogation will just have to wait," he said.

"Because you are sending me to medical. Why?" the Captain asked but the man ignored him as a couple guards raced down the hallway towards them.

"Take this clone to the medical ward and have his arm checked out then return him here," the Colonel ordered. He pressed the button to open the cell as the guards gave their yessirs and they rushed in. The Captain felt a little shove as the men guided him out of his cell and down the hall. The Colonel glared at him as he passed and he just returned it though it was quite halfheartedly. He was confused beyond belief. Why would they be trying to take care of him? He didn't know what was going on, if this was a trick of some sort, but he didn't trust the man at all. The guards behind him gave him a little push as they realised he was slowing down a bit and they turned the corner. The Captain took one last glance back to where the Colonel was standing before to find it vacant of life. A pit grew in his stomach that made him imagine that something wasn't right about his perspective on things, he just couldn't place what it could be.

…..

The Colonel stared out across the table at his blond haired subordinate. She was straight faced as ever, not giving him any clue that she was wondering why they were there. He had spent the last few hours interrogating his own troops rather than the filthy clone they just captured in order to get to the bottom of what really happened in the battle of the Village of Liore. The Captain was furious as any prisoner would be, but after he corrected his assumptions of what happened to the rest of Green Lion Company Mustang needed to find out if it was true. All of the other people he questioned had a mixture of answers on the matter. Some of them replied saying that Kimblee did order them to shoot the remainder of soldiers after they were peacefully rounded up, and others had a mixture of stories as they didn't do such a thing. He didn't know who to believe at this point and the last person he could trust was probably the one who killed the most in that firefight.

The rebels all had mixed feelings about the Central Empire, more importantly the storm and clone troopers they used. Their anger raged from a trickle of competition and anger to a burning disgust for their creation at all. Unfortunately, the Colonel had to admit that he was on the latter of the group. He was disgusted by the idea of cloning men and even more so as to what they had become. He understood why many people would have sided with Kimblee if he really did order them to shoot the prisoners. However, in the matter of humane warfare, the rebel forces had no room for this conduct in their military even against clones and storm troopers, meer minions on the Central's behalf. A prisoner of war, was a prisoner of war, no matter what they were which meant fair treatment and aid under their confinement. If the rebel forces didn't do this, it just gave the Empire new propaganda to hold against them in the long run.

"Lieutenant," the Colonel sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, tired of all of the people he had to question that day. He hoped that she would be able to give him something to set his suspicions to rest.

"Sir," she answered stiffly, seeing that he was taking his time in. Mustang looked up at her, knowing her attitude was anything but impatient.

""Lieutenant Hawkeye, tell me everything that happened in Liore as how you remember it exactly," he ordered her. She nodded her head in acceptance.

"I was stationed up in a cottage on the eastern end of town right on the main street that lead to the trading post on the edge of town. We knew by the previous villages the company visited that it was the most likely route that they would take to the store," she said giving the Colonel a pictured idea of why they were there in the first place, though he already knew. She was drawing out a rough layout of the town in order to show him more specifically what was happening. "Central forces arrived, what we know now as Green Lion Company, at the edge of town here. I think they suspected us there as they split up into teams to cover more area. They unloaded carts of seeds for some reason to take with them. I don't know what they were for, sir."

"Seeds?" the Colonel asked curiously and the Lieutenant nodded her head.

"Yes sir. They took them to the previous towns. Even the other companies had them. I believe they were trading them for some reason, but I am not sure, sir," she answered. The Colonel frowned and made a little note on the pad he was writing on. The Avarice Battalion usually raided the villages that they took their food from. That was one reason why the rebels took interest in the planet of Resembool to begin with and also that if they cut off the legion's food supply it would be that much harder on the Empire. He wondered why they would suddenly change tactics at all. He motioned for the Lieutenant to continue.

"I watched as the troops made their way to the shop and I saw the yellow striped commander enter it. He was in there until the mortars started to drop which was when I started to target their men, sir," she said. "We took out the ships first like ordered to and then the teams near the shop. They were quite frankly dropping like flies, sir. I counted only forty men total and within the first half, most of them were gone. I had a small group of men cornered in an alleyway near third street here," she said as she pointed to a small gap between the pictured cottages she drew on her map. The Colonel nodded her head, a little sickened by how detailed and thorough she was. "I couldn't get a good shot on any of them, but they couldn't seem to go anywhere and our men took care of them, sir. Some of them were killed but I believe a small number was captured."

"Captured?" Colonel asked.

"Yes sir. They were taken to the end of town when the fighting started to die down. There didn't seem to be many Central troops left, sir."

"Continue," he said.

"It was all about over sir, when I saw the yellow striped commander running down the street towards us along with another blue striped soldier-"

"A lieutenant," the Colonel reminded her about the color ranking of the storm troopers. Though her face remained expressionless he caught a glare in her eyes that seemed to be irritated that he interrupted her. He quickly motioned for her to continue with the story so that he wouldn't have to sit underneath that stare for much longer.

"He was followed by a lieutenant. They had cover sir and I wasn't able to hit them right away. There was no one else in that sector to fire at them. We had men posted in each of the cottages but they were later to have been found wounded or dead sir," she told him.

"Do you know who took them out?"

"The commander and his lieutenant, sir," she answered making the Colonel frown. "They were shooting them out of the windows, with terribly good accuracy. I believe they were coming for me, sir." The Colonel let out a huge breath as he took down a few notes. He felt his anger boil a bit as he thought of the Captain who he talked to earlier. He didn't look like he was a capable shooter, however he guessed looks were deceiving. If anything happened to the lieutenant, he knew that their talk in the confinement block would have ended quite differently and for the worse.

"Continue your story lieutenant," he breathed as he tried to calm himself down. He saw that she was staring at him worriedly as he wasn't as good at covering up his emotions as she was.

"I couldn't line up my shot in time when the Commander appeared again to run to the next point of cover. He was using the rubble that was dug up from the mortars to hide in. I could see easily over it but not into it from my position. He seemed to know this, sir," she said. "I was, however, able to get the Lieutenant in the hip. He was slow and an easy target. I didn't kill him though sir, he was also taken captive by our men later. But something really did surprise me-"

"What was that?" he asked her.

"We know this much that the clones and stormtroopers in the Central Army are programmed to leave their injured men behind, sir." The Colonel nodded his head. There were many reasons why the rebels and citizens called the Storm troopers monsters but one of them was because they didn't even care to save their own kind. They regarded themselves as expendable and even that level of self dehumanization was a bit much for the Colonel to handle. He didn't think much of clones at all. They weren't even human in his mind, but knowing that they were programmed to do that was even a monstrosity.

"Yes, and?" he said wondering the Lieutenant's point. She frowned at him like she didn't believe that he didn't get it already.

"But the Commander went back for him, sir," she elaborated. "It was quick and too unsuspecting that I didn't have time to shoot, but the Commander picked the lieutenant up and dragged him to cover. I called into our ground patrol that there were still a couple left over enemy soldiers in that quadrant so that they could get some men down there to take care of them since I couldn't get a good shot. However… the Commander managed to sit up just enough for me to see him that right after the transmission I took the shot to his right shoulder."

"You know the other men are trying to take credit for that right?" the Colonel smirked making the Lieutenant glare at him a bit.

"Are they now?" she hummed nonchalantly. "If you look at the caliber weapons they are using, you will find that they wouldn't be able to pierce their armor with that accuracy. I think it is a safe bet that it was me, sir."

"Good point."

"What happened next sir was more of busy work than anything. We got the ships together to leave and some of the men were sent to make amends with the towns folk. Kimblee had put me in charge of the Prisoner's guards as he told me he wanted to make sure that none of them escaped. I had them rounded up on the corner here by this cottage," she said pointing to the small diagram. "I counted eight total including the Commander and his Lieutenant, sir." The Colonel nodded his head numbly as he disregarded the previous accounts that all of the enemy soldiers were killed in direct fire. They did take at least a few of them captive which meant that his previous thought was wrong, however why weren't they brought here? The Colonel needed to interrogate the Captain, he wanted to find what little he knew of the Central Forces. He needed to find any clues he could for their next step to work. The more people he interrogated the more accurate their information could become however now with what apparently happened in Liore he was only down to one person who was really reluctant to give him answers with what he saw happen there.

"Lieutenant, what happened to them?"

"The Commander was taken out of the group by Kimblee and hand cuffed. The commander's arm didn't seem to be working from where I hit him, but I don't know if it was permanent damage or not. As he was being taken up to the ship, Kimblee set out orders for us to shoot the remaining soldiers. I am sorry sir, but that was what we were ordered to do."

"Did you shoot lieutenant?" the Colonel asked.

"No sir," she answered stiffly even though she was answering to have not followed the higher ranking officer's orders. The Colonel nodded his head.

"Very well. Lieutenant," he said, standing up from his seat and taking the papers that they had written on, "I want you to go to medical and look after the Commander. Make sure all is done for him there. I know you are tired from today so I will have Fuery change with you when he is able to. I am going to have a talk with the General."

"Yes, sir," she said as she stood up from where she sat. "Is there anything else you need from me, sir?" The Colonel sighed and shook his head.

"Rest well, Lieutenant, I am afraid I won't," he mumbled. She nodded her head before turning on her heel and walking out the door. The Colonel groaned to himself. Kimblee really did mess up everything. The Central Empire would definitely take their attack on Liore into their propaganda against them. They would definitely lose faith in the wayward communities of the eastern quadrant of the galaxy. He would be scrambling around trying to fix everything let alone trying to get what little information he could from that stupid clone they did manage to capture. From what he had gotten from the Lieutenant he had quite a few more questions than he originally intended to ask but he feared that he wouldn't get any of the answers he was looking for. After all, though the Commander of the company, he was just a low ranking clone. What could he possibly know of the inner secrets of the Central Empire?

….

The Commander felt anxiety crawl into him as he was rushed immediately into the emergency room care. He still had the shackles on around his hands but the nurses seemed more flustered with getting him care rather than if he was going to strangle them or not. They were asking him too many questions at once he didn't know what they were saying. The guards who had lead him into the medical ward were ordered to wait outside for him instead of following him in. He didn't really know what was going on. Many of the eyes that were laid upon him, trying to get his diagnosis written down looked rather disgusted by his presence there but they were still furiously trying to get everyone around him to do their jobs right. He was being pushed and pulled in so many directions he didn't know where he was anymore. The Commander felt someone grab his helmet and lift it off of his head.

"H-Hey!" he exclaimed as he tried to grab it back but someone else yanked on the stocks which bound his hands and were fumbling for the lock.

"You can't move your arm can you?" the little grey haired woman asked him straight in the eyes. Her face was stern, but she looked more worried than the other doctors who were just doing their jobs. He numbly shook his head as she opened up the stockades and tossed them to the side. Like he said his right arm fell limply to his side unmoving. She picked it up and looked at it. She poked it in many places and asked if he could feel it but he couldn't. With a humm she let it go and it fell useless again.

"How long has it been like this?" she asked him as she and other nurses started to try and remove his armour from his shoulders and his arms. He twisted around a little afraid of what was going on. It was too much at once for him to handle. One of the nurses tried to take his shoulder plate off and accidentally brushed his shoulder and he hissed a little bit as the paint flared. They continued without an apology.

"S-since it was hit," the Commander said as he watched the nurses carry his dirty and bloody armour away. He felt tugging on his legs and he looked down to see that they were already starting to take his shin guards off. He saw one of the nurses start for his bottom plates and he felt himself turn red as he quickly tried to stop her. He fumbled and jumped out of the ring of medics, his face heated with complete embarrassment.

"N-no… I-I can do it-"

"Stop being a baby," the old lady scolded him. "You are eighteen years old for god sakes. My granddaughter can put up with more than you."

"I am not even eight!" he defended as he tried to take his own thigh plates off however the straps were too difficult for only one hand and with his other one useless he couldn't do it. He kept backing away from the nurses who were very aggravated with him. "I-I think I am fine… We could just bandage it and-"

"You need surgery," the old woman retorted. The Commander shook his head as he was backed up into the glass wall that surrounded the examination room. Many people were observing the procedure from the other side in order to make sure everything was going alright or whether their prisoner was going rogue. He felt his head race as they got closer. It was all too overwhelming being in there. He kind of wished he were back in his cell or even better, back on Resembool. There was a shimmer in the corner of his eye and turned to see one of the doctors trying to prepare a needle. His eyes widened with the sight and he bolted through the crowd to the other side of the room, his right arm flopping beside him.

"No-No needles! I don't need a shot-" he begged as the man got closer to him. The doctor lunged and he jumped, leaping over the examination table and knocking over a few sterile trays that were set up. He felt someone run into his side and he fell to the floor, his shoulder screaming at him for it all the way. The Commander tried to scramble out from underneath the man that had tackled him but he was pinned to the ground. There was yelling of orders from the other medics in the room and he couldn't make sense of it all. It was too chaotic and bright. Suddenly he felt the unwanted prick in his arm and the serum that was in the syringe emptied out into his bloodstream. His mind went dizzy and dumb instantly and he felt the weight on top of him lighten.

"Come on, we need to get him on the table," he heard the strange old lady order. His limp body was tugged upwards and he was laid down on the cool surface of the metal table. He blinked dazedly around and he tried to sit up just to find that he was too tired to move. A hand rested on his face and he saw the warm eyes of the old lady stare into his. He felt scared as his vision started to grow fuzzy. He didn't know what was going on and all he could imagine was pain. A small smile formed on the old woman's face which suddenly made his heart calm down from his racing state. It seemed gentle, not like anything else before. Suddenly, he felt his eyes draw close and he felt the sleep he was wanting for a while now take over him.

…..

Lieutenant Hawkeye watched the procedure through the clear glass that surrounded the examination room. She had to ask if she was in the right place as she saw a blond haired child on the table instead of a clone like she was expecting however under several people's' answers she had to conclude that this was him, the commander of Green Lion Company. The child laid motionless on the table as medics buzzed around with syringes and gauze to soak up the blood that was pooling over the side of the table. She couldn't believe that that was the person she had shot in Liore. Her kills never felt personal, it just felt like something that happened, they never felt real, but seeing the Captain lay there on the table right infront of her, she couldn't seem to comprehend what had happened. Through the scope of her rifle she knew that the commander was short in comparison with the man he was running with, but to find out he wasn't even fully matured yet seemed to give her a kick in the stomach. He couldn't have been more than eight years old at that point. It was a little unbearable for her to watch as he went through surgery unknowing of whatever went on around him. She wasn't giving the kid pity, she wasn't upset that she had shot him. It was what she had to do and she did it. But looking back at what she was like at only eight years old, she knew that he must have been frightened beyond belief.

They had set him of all people in charge of an entire company on Resembool. Clones were tougher than their age let on. They were highly skilled soldiers bred and created for just that Commander couldn't have been an exception to this, but Hawkeye could tell that there was something different in him than all the other clones. It wasn't just the hair or the age that had surprised her, but rather what she remembered of the day in Liore. There was something about Captain ED-0001 that interested nearly everyone that met him however she couldn't understand it, and neither could they.

Lieutenant Hawkeye let out a small yawn as she leaned back in her chair. She couldn't believe that the Colonel had taken her right after battle and an interrogation to go watch over the clone. Havoc was already sleeping in his quarters and she had to watch the Captain go through surgery. The doors to the operation room opened up and the short lady, Pinako Rockbell, scuttled out of it, wiping her washed hands on her apron, a clipboard tucked underneath her arm. She spotted her from across the way and walked over to take the chair next to her. She looked almost as tired as she was but she still wore a dull smile on her face as she handed her a clean dampened cloth.

"Lieutenant, you got some dirt on your face," she told her and the Lieutenant quickly thanked her and started to wipe her face. She realised just how filthy she was from her fight on Resembool as she saw the cloth dirtied from only a few wipes on her face.

"What's going on in there?" she asked as she continued to try and clean herself up a bit. The old woman sighed as she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, we are going to have to amputate his arm. He couldn't feel it at all, movement was all impossible and the bolt just went straight through his shoulder girdle. Even if we wanted to fix it, there is nothing we can do. We even have to repair some of his bones with metal just to keep him together," she said. "Strange enough, he already has a prosthetic leg."

"A leg?" Hawkeye asked curiously. "They should have thrown him out if he lost a leg or got injured. The Empire doesn't keep defective clones." Pinako just shrugged, not knowing the answer at all. The Lieutenant frownedand set her hand down in her lap and fingered the cloth lightly as she stared into the operating room.

"How old is he?" Riza asked the old woman calmly. Pinako chuckled a little bit as if she was remembering something funny in the back of her mind.

"You know he's only eight years old? I didn't know he was a clone until he told me that and still I couldn't believe it until we knocked him out and removed his shirt to find those burns on his back," she said. "He still does act like a child as you could believe. We were chasing him around the room because he was scared of the needles. Could you believe that? A Commander of a military company, from the Empire no less, afraid of tiny needles."

"The process of becoming a clone is rather painful one, Dr. Rockbell," Hawkeye said calmly. "Their immune systems aren't fully developed when they are born and have to get many injections right when they open their eyes. I could imagine that only at age eight he would still be a bit off put by them."

"Yes, you would know all about that wouldn't you, Lieutenant?" Pinako replied softly. There was a string of silence between them as they both watched the operation room tiredly. It looked like the arm had been removed successfully and all that there was left was to stitch up the shoulder. The golden haired boy looked so small now just laying there on the table. The whole scene sent shivers up Hawkeye's back and she felt herself pull her jacket around herself tighter.

"I know it was the Central Empire that ravaged our home planet of Resembool and killed my son and daughter in their fire fight to conquer it. It was because of those monsters that I had to flee from there with only my granddaughter in my hands. Isn't it silly that I look at that clone and just imagine him as something different? I don't know, maybe it is because he looks like someone I used to know that I say this, but it is still a gut feeling that I can't shake," Pinako whispered. Her eyes were still locked on the room and Riza couldn't tell what she was thinking. Riza knew that he was the enemy, yet she did know that there was something different about Captain ED-0001 that even Pinako could feel. Riza didn't think that he was friendly, there was nothing that he would do to label him as such. But sure enough, Riza was questioning just what type of clone this boy could be. A hand patted her leg lightly as Pinako stood up with a calm and gently smile back at her.

"You look tired, let me get you a blanket," she offered. The lieutenant caught the old woman's eyes before she turned away. They were wet and shiny. She sighed as she watched Pinako walk away and out of sight. She and her granddaughter had a hard life because of the Empire's stormtroopers. They lost everything because of them. However, it seemed even Pinako was conflicted with her thoughts on the new stranger. The Lieutenant was getting curious as to what exactly they were getting into with Captain ED-0001.


	4. A Little Less Human

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter Four

A Little Less Human

ED-0001 screamed in pain as he writhed on the metal table trying to break free of the straps that held him there. It was too painful, he felt every bolt of electricity jolt through his being. He felt like he was going to die. One wave after the other came and tears bridged his eyes as he feared that they would overflow. Just to be born, just to awaken to this kind of hurt, ED-0001 couldn't take it. It felt like his body was on fire as he felt his very muscles forcefully build mass which would allow him to stand by himself. Another shock rode through his system and another scream tore through his lips, echoing around the chamber. It seemed like hours but was probably only minutes since the procedure started until he felt the last wave rub through him. Is disappeared seemingly into the air and the little boy, only a day old out of his growing cell, was left shivering on the table crying silently to himself.

A tall blonde haired man stood over him, a cold look of concentrated calculation on his face as he picked up the boy's arm and felt it, feeling the muscle growth that was forcefully put on him. ED-0001 was an Experimental Development clone, the only one in his unit to have grown properly in his cell. They tried to focus on development of mind over body which meant that the young clone coming out of his cell didn't have his entire muscular system grown yet. They had to speed up his development outside of the growing cell. However, the man wasn't very pleased with the outcome.

ED-0001 was left snivelling on the procedure table, bound to it by leather straps over his chest and hips. His poor little body,looking no older than a three year old, felt as if it went through the worse torture of his life. The blond man adjusted a few dials and wrote something down on his clipboard as he looked down in all familiarity to the young clone.

"D-dad," the young boy whimpered lifting his weak and burning hand towards the man, nearly identical to him. He just shook his head, the cold look of his expression never changing as he pushed the child's arm back down to the table.

"Muscle structure is insufficient. One more round ought to do it," he heard the detached voice say with little concern. The clone let out a little cry as he heard the machines pick up again and static filled the air once more. For just being born into the world, ED-0001 never felt more alone.

…

There was a light poke in his chest and ED-0001 tried to fight it and continue resting. His eyes felt too heavy to open and his body couldn't even move if he wanted to. However there it was, more persistent than ever forcing the young clone to open his eyes to find the culprit staring at him only a few inches away from his face. Huge identical golden eyes stared back at him from a boy who looked just like him. There was a curious wonder in his eyes as the boy looked him over from head to toe.

"I was wonder when you were going to wake up," the boy smiled. "You sure sleep a lot."

"Who- who are you?" ED-0001 asked as he tried to sit up but found that his own body was too sore to even do so. The little boys grin just grew even bigger at the question.

"I am AL-0002! I am your younger brother! But you can call me Alphonse!" He chirped, giving the limp body of ED-0001 a hug against his will. "Alphonse?" The clone questioned the other, not really understanding it. The boy turned a little red and frowned nervously.

"I-i thought I would name myself… is it bad? I could change it-"

"No. It is fine… i was just curious is all," ED-0001 said softly in thought. "I didn't think i had a brother… I… I was the only one in my unit-"

"But we are from the same father, we must be brothers," the little boy complained. ED-0001 looked around the room. They were in a sleeping bag of sorts which held nearly eighty beds for the clones that just came out of their cells. The entire room stood vacant except for the beds that they occupied. For both of their batches, were they the only ones to have come out right? He looked back at the boy who was waiting with a huge smile on his face that never seemed to go away. He frowned slightly as he watched him bounce on his feet happily.

"Why do you get to walk?" He grumbled at the boy who just frowned at him confused.

"Y-you mean you can't?" The kid questioned, ED-0001 giving him a shake of the head.

"M-my muscles just developed yesterday. They hurt," he mumbled softly. Alphonse's lips pursed a bit in thought and a few seconds went by before he was smiling again as bright as ever.

"Edward, do you want me to help you?" The boy asked. ED-0001 was a little startled at what he called him.

"Wh-what?" he said a little taken back.

"I decided to call you Edward from now on," the kid admitted.

"Why do you get to choose my name when you chose your own?" ED-0001 complained making the other boy pout defensively.

"Well if you don't like it-"

"No I like it," Edward butted in making the boy smile back at him knowingly. The two of them just stared at each other for a little bit, looking each other over. Eventually Alphonse helped him sit up in bed though his sore muscles complained and roared against him, the other boy just helped massage and stretch them out. Edward felt himself slowly begin to move by himself though he hurt all over still. As they worked on his muscles, Edward let his new name play over in his mind. He liked it more than the other boy knew. But above it there was only one thing that he cherished more than a name, and that was the thought of having a younger brother.

…

Captain ED-0001 jolted up from his bed in a frozen panic. Losing his balance he flailed his arms just to fall right out of bed and hit the cold cement floor of his cell. His shoulder roared with pain, stronger than it ever was before and he let out a small cry. He cursed blindly as footsteps pounded in through his cells from the door as one of the guards called to see what was the matter. He had a nightmare about the events in Liore and he couldn't stop it. Over and over again the images were run through his head as he watched his men drop one by one to the ground, dead. It was like a deadly reminder of where he was and what had happened to them, what he had failed to do. He felt a pair of hands try to pick him up off the ground as if to help him get a hold of himself but the Captain tried to shove him off. He didn't want the bloody rebel stranger there, he didn't want to get pushed around anymore however the man persisted. The Captain was about to yell at him to stop it when suddenly he caught sight of his bandaged shoulder.

"It's…."he started but he couldn't find the words at all, his heart absolutely frozen in mid beat. His shoulder just ended. Where the bandages were, slightly bloody from his aggravating fall, there was just a stump and nothing more. He felt his entire being go numb as he just stared at it. It was gone, just gone. As if to make sure he wasn't imagining things, he ran his other hand over the gauze trying to feel for his arm where it should have been. There was just nothing. The Captain bit his lip to stifle an anguished cry from escaping it. It came out as a muffled scream and he felt his weight give up on him as he collapsed back down to the floor with a thud. His entire limb was taken again. He already had to deal with the despair of losing his leg, but now his arm was gone as well. It just felt like the world was quite literally tearing him apart, making him less and less of a human as it went. He was losing everything and he couldn't stop it. Looking at his bare shoulder, he realised how permanent this made everything. He couldn't push any of this off as a bad nightmare, he couldn't just wish it was a dream and everyone was safe back on Resembool, it was real, it all happened and he would have to live with it forever. The Captain had lost everything in his life once again and he felt himself tumble down into the pit of despair in only the span of thirty seconds. He was all alone, trapped in the ghosts of his memories. He felt as if he couldn't escape.

He felt a hand suddenly rest on his bare chest, having been stripped down to some shortened black pants at some point, and he flinched as he looked up to catch the large dark eyes of a young rebel soldier looking up at him. He had dark hair and glasses as the Captain instantly recognised him as the man from the hologram.

"Sir, are you alright?" the young man asked sincerely and the Captain just stared dumbly at him as if he didn't understand a word he said. He felt numb all over, not really knowing how to take any of this in. He needed space, he needed to get out of there and get back to the empire, but the soldier didn't allow any of it as he patted him calmly on the chest. "Sir, I-I think we need to re bandage your arm-"

"Not now," the Captain muttered miserably but the soldier shook his head.

"We need to or else it might get infected and you took a nasty fall there on it. You shouldn't be so rough or else the stitches might tear and-"

"Please… just… not yet," he pleaded, not knowing if he would even be able to stand the sight of what was left. His voice felt forced and his throat was thick as he tried to calm himself down, but a spark of fear, of anxiety, of despair was kindling in the deepest part of his chest. The young soldier seemed to get the hint and stopped flustering over him for a little bit, instead taking a seat down next to him as if they weren't sitting in a confinement cell at all. The Sergeant obviously didn't know how to treat a prisoner of war. He was in there by himself, he left the door unguarded and unshielded, and he was sitting down right next to him without a better thought. The Captain didn't know if he should take it offendedly that they weren't even considering him a threat anymore, or just as the soldier's nativity, but seeing the door open even if he knew he wouldn't go through it, made him a little more hopeful about the situation he had been placed in, even if by just a fraction.

"Sir, everything will be alright-"

"Please don't call me sir," the Captain sighed heavily, the lump in his throat not budging one bit. "I think I lost the right for that title, along with Commander. I have no company left to lead, so why be called a leader?" The Sergeant frowned but stayed quiet, letting the Captain breathe a bit before continuing his one sided conversation. "I am a bloody terrible soldier, do you know that?" he asked the Sergeant who just shook his head dumbly. "I am a terrible soldier. Yes, I graduated both basic combat training and officer school early, earlier than any clone or storm trooper ever did, but that means shit other than what you put on your uniform."

"I don't think you should be so hard on yourself if you are able to do all that-" the Sergeant started but the Captain shook his head.

"If I can do all of that, why couldn't I save my company? All of them counted on me and now look at them," he muttered. "I should have died multiple times in my 7.5 years of living. Instead of it being me, I live and get turned into a two limbed waste basket with no family and nothing to show for it." There was a suffocating silence that hung in the air after the Captain finished. The room seemed to still and he felt himself even more detached from it that before. A heavyweight set in his chest and he felt his eyes start to water back up. He had tried so hard for the longest time to fight them back but he just couldn't do it anymore. It was too much grief in such a little time span, his dam was overflowing as it was. The Captain knew that suppressing it would have just made it come back tenfold but he did it anyway, and here it was. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried his hardest to hide his face from the Rebel sitting next to him. However he knew that the Sergeant was too observant to be oblivious to his state. He felt a hand rest on his bare back and he covered his face with his hand, trying to wipe the stray tears that were streaking down it.

"Pitt," he choked, nothing above a whisper but the Sergeant just sat with him quietly and listened not really knowing what to do. They sat there in silence for what seemed to be hours but was only a few minutes as the Captain tried to get control of himself. He furiously wiped his eyes trying to get rid of all evidence that he cried. He was ashamed to have shown his weakness right in front of a rebel soldier no less. He sucked in a huge breath and leaned his head back against the frame of the bed that was behind them, taking his time to stare at the ceiling.

The confinement cell was dark, having only a small window in the far corner where no one could reach to let light in. It was growing dark outside but the lights had not yet kicked on inside of his cell. He felt empty with himself though a dull serene feeling washed over him as he watched some of the sun's dancing light fade out of the small cage he was kept in like an animal. It was funny that the thing he and Pitt always tried to prove they weren't was animals and even after all of that he just got locked up in a cage. The Captain frowned at the thought of his friend. It seemed that after his grieving he was finally able to relax ever so slightly. That for once he was able to think of his friend and subordinate again without turmoil or regret.

"Sir… uh… I mean-"

"ED-0001," the Captain told the young man softly, not even tearing his eyes away from where they were glued to the ceiling.

"ED-0001?" the Sergeant said questionably. "I think I am going to have someone come and rebandage your shoulder. Is that alright?" The Captain just numbly nodded his head and watched as the Sergeant stood up from where he was and scurry out the door. The field reformed over the doorway and the Captain was once again, locked away all by himself. His shoulder stung like little needles were stabbing themselves into it over and over again and he found himself subconsciously reach up and grab a hold of it. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He just needed to remind himself, it wasn't at all like the first time.


	5. Not What He was Expecting

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter 5

Not What He Was Expecting

Colonel Roy Mustang glared across the table where their captured Clone Trooper was sitting awaiting his interrogation. His only arm was shackled to the table in order to prevent him from doing anything stupid, but the dull blank look in his eye made the Colonel realise that that was the last thing he was thinking of doing. As compared to a few days ago when he first met the imperial soldier, the Captain today looked small, weak, nearly defenseless. Without all of his armour on he noticed that he was just a boy, no more than eighteen years of age and very thin. The Captain was not wearing a shirt as the medics who were looking after him wanted direct access to his bandages. The burns on the back of his neck where he was branded as a clone stood out above his paled skin and seemed to emphasise the dull glaze over the Captain's eyes. The Colonel knew that he had him, for there was no stronger friend to an interrogation than self defeat. He could tell from experience that the Captain was exactly that.

The Colonel sat down in the chair across from him and set his papers down on the desk. He wished that he could have gotten the interrogation done the first day he met the Captain however Kimblee needed to be taken care of. With his review of the claims the soldiers had in Liore and their relation to the slaughtered Central Forces he was able to get the General to put Kimblee away for some short time on his disregardance towards the Galactic code for War. Though the Central Empire might not follow this at all points, the Rebels tried their best to adhere to the code of conduct especially when dealing with prisoners of war if they might one day be traded. They didn't want the Central Empire creating propaganda against them claiming them as inhumane. They already had enough on their plate as it was struggling to get their troops in line, it wouldn't help if they had the citizens against them too. Liore was a perfect example on how much the citizen's opinions could change the tides of war, for if the villagers were favoring the Empire, they wouldn't have housed their ambushes for the Avarice Battalion. However, sometimes he wondered whether clones should have been considered part of the code of conduct or not.

"We read your file, ED-0001, from the chip embedded in your wrist. You seem to have a lot of confidential files on your record and we are interested in all of them," he stated flatly. The boy didn't even raise his eyebrow at him in acknowledgement, just choosing to sink lower in his seat. He knew what they were about however, the Colonel could tell it was a heavy topic to start off on. He frowned as he shuffled his papers around and changed the topic.

"Let's start with Liore, shall we?" he asked stiffly to the kid across the table. "The Avarice Battalion was known for a long time for their cruel disregardance to the villager's well being when collecting food stores from them. There have been cases of murder, rape, and burglary claimed by the villagers in the towns of Resembool. This was one reason why we tried to stop you, but instead of finding your little force pillaging villages, my troops found you hauling seeds to the town instead. What were they for?"

"To trade," the boy mumbled simply. It seemed pointless to now that they had lost control over Resembool entirely. Keeping the information in just would have been a waste of energy which the Captain seemed to completely lack now. Sergeant Fuery told him all of what happened in the confinement cell a few days ago. He knew it must have taken a toll on the Captain but for him to be this much of a pushover was a big treat for the Colonel. "I thought it best that we would trade seed for the crops we took so that the villager's wouldn't have to starve through the winter-"

"Your battalion never cared about that before-"

"Well I did," the Captain retorted lightly. "I threw the idea up to General Greed who accepted the offer eagerly. We didn't want the villagers against us. I wanted to repair the bonds broken between them and the Central Empire or else I knew that you would be coming. I spent six months designing and creating the seeds in order to give them to the villagers by my first harvest on that planet."

"You… designed the seeds," the Colonel stated flatly in disbelief but the Captain just gave a shallow nod as he started to finger the table where his only wrist was shackled down.

"It would have been pointless to give them seeds if they couldn't produce food by the end of the season. So I used my own development to base the seeds off of. Like clones the grow nearly three times as fast and healthy so the would have been able to be picked by the winter," the Captain told him.

"How did you know about your development procedure?" the Colonel asked and the Captain raised his eyebrow at him like he was stupid.

"Are you really asking me this?" he questioned him with full sarcasm. "All of my programming is burned into my skin. I know it is there because I went through it. I carry it with me everywhere. I would like to see you forget about scolding hot irons in your back."

"I meant how did you learn of the process? You have the material but it is encoded. Only a few people can read that, most of whom were the ones writing it," the Colonel retorted. The golden boy scowled and slouched down in his seat, muttering something underneath his breath. However, the Colonel forced himself to be patient and the kid eventually answered his question.

"I had my Lieutenant write it down and I decoded it myself. I remembered seeing some of the clipboards with notes on it when I was being created. Since I had basic knowledge of the procedure already, having been the one going through it, decoding it just came naturally I guess," he told him.

"How does a clone just decide to do all of this? You were made to follow orders not to think outside of the box," the Colonel stated a little harshly which he noticed made the Captain glare at him like he was repulsive to nature. He didn't seem to take insults about clones very well, quite frankly to heart.

"Against public assumptions, we were created to think reasonably but also creatively in battle, Colonel," the Captain said a little stronger. "We do have very loyal traits and were were programmed to follow orders but I was never given orders to pillage villages and rape innocent women, Colonel. None of us were. So we thought creatively, we planned reasonably, and we almost got our quota in too. That is all there is to it." The Colonel frowned as he made a little note on his papers before shuffling them around to continue. He didn't believe what the clone had to say about themselves. He just couldn't. Clones couldn't have come up with that plan all by themselves, even Storm troopers couldn't have. They were all programmed from birth. Why would the Central Empire want soldiers who tried to change orders? The Colonel shook his head as he continued onto the next set of questions.

"I have an account from one of my men that stated that in the midst of battle, your lieutenant was shot by one of our snipers-" the Colonel started slowly as he watched the Captain's eyes widen with the detailed interrogation of his men. He turned his head away and the Colonel caught him lightly tugging on his wrist as if he didn't want to be there anymore. He could tell he didn't want to talk about it but the Colonel continued. He wasn't going to skip another question because a clone didn't want to think about it. "I got accounts that said you went back for him after you had already made it to cover-"

"If you are going to ask why, I am not even going to answer it," the Captain interrupted. "It seems you would rather gather information on how inhumane clones are rather than the actual information I might know."

"You're dodging the question," Mustang growled. "I know for a fact that you are programmed to not go back for the dead. That is something that is ingrained into even the Stormtroopers. I seen it too many times for it to be a false assumption. The Central Empire leaves whoever fails a mission or couldn't make it. Why did you go back for him?"

"If he was your subordinate, would you have gone back for him?" the Captain returned. The Colonel thought it was rhetorical but then he saw the look on the Captain's face which made it seem like he was willing to sit there all day until he answered.

"Yes." The Captain smirked at him knowingly. The Colonel wanted to punch the look off of that clone's face however he tried to calm himself. He was still in an interrogation, he could strangle the kid later.

"It is true that we are supposed to leave the failures behind, that was one thing that the academy tried to ingrain in us. There are several things that the Central Empire has us do that I don't agree with, but it isn't my place to butt in. However, little by little, an act of a few can make even the worse company in the entire Extravagance Corp. become a bit better. We still follow orders, but just a little differently than the rest. That is actually what General Greed told me when he approved my proposal," the Captain said softly. "Pitt wasn't a failure, neither was anyone else you bastards killed. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. To think otherwise that's a bit too prideful for me to handle, after all, I should have been thrown out long ago."

"You were created as an expendable force, there was no reason to risk saving just one-"

"We are not expendable!" he yelled at him, standing up from where he was sitting. His chair fell over with a clatter which seemed to silence the whole room. The Colonel stared at the young man unphased by his rash actions. The Captain's arm was still bound to the table, preventing him from going anywhere. All he could do was glare at him and yell. However, the Colonel was a bit surprised to see the Captain's eyes slightly wet.

"We are not expendable," the boy repeated. "We aren't brainless, we are humans just made differently."

"You were a just lab experiment that they use to get their work done," the Colonel cut in.

"It doesn't mean anything!" the Captain retorted. "People like you look at us and I don't know what you see. We look the same and talk the same. We have the same emotions and feelings as anyone else. I don't know why we are said to be something different, something less than human. There is no 'just' in what we are. I don't think anyone should be limited to what they are, only what they want to become. I and Pitt wanted to become more, we wanted to help people, but now you had to come into the midst of it all and destroy it! That man Kimblee killed my company because they were 'just' expendable! I would like to see someone say that to your face as they murder your subordinates right in front of you, like it was nothing."

The captain's face was red, angered beyond anything. His eyes burned with a passion that screamed at the Colonel for all they were worth. It was a look that even he couldn't ignore. However, before long the energy in the boy seemed to flicker and die and he took in a huge breath before slumping over the table. His chair was toppled over and having his only hand lashed to the table he couldn't fix it. The Colonel could tell he was tired, he was exhausted, and defeated right down to the core. The seemingly hopeful beliefs that he was holding onto seemed to be dwindling as he was having a hard time believing them himself. There seemed to be a flicker of hurt in his eyes as if he was remembering something very personal to him.

"But, I guess you're right," he mumbled so quietly the Colonel had to lean in to hear him. "The only life we ever will know is that of war. In the eyes of the Central Empire all we are are bodies to get their work done. They don't care what they do to you but as long as I am useful they find another job to put me in. I just…," the Captain paused as if trying to find the right words. He eventually shook his head disregarding something and sighed. "I just want to make the Central Empire notice us. I want to help." The Colonel frowned as he stood up and walked around the desk to pick up the kid's chair. The Captain was watching him curiously as he set it down for him to sit in. It looked like he didn't even want to take the offer to sit down even though he was hunched over the table. However the prisoner eventually did and the Colonel returned to his own, collapsing down into it not ready to tell the Captain what he didn't want to hear.

"Do you even know what the Central Empire is doing, what they are capable of?" the Colonel asked him stiffly. The Captain looked up at him a bit confused as what he was asking.

"They are trying to unite the galaxy. Oppression and violence is happening on many different planets throughout the four different quadrants because of the different conflicting laws they have. The Central Empire wants to help unite them and stop this from happening-"

"The Central Empire wants to unite the galaxy under one rule, and one race. They are creating genocide throughout the galaxy killing anyone that gets in their way. Their idea of a perfect nation is a nation of clones or brainwashed storm troopers like you who can obey them on every command. You are helping them kill millions of people for the sake of false perfection."

"That's not possible," the Captain stated flatly. "The Central Empire wouldn't-"

"The Ishvalans," the Colonel interjected, "a peaceful race that looked and acted just a bit too different. The destruction of their race was caused by the invasion of clone troops, one who just happened to misfire into a crowd of people."

"It was a chaotic set of events. No one knew what was to come of it-"

"The Central Empire set an order of extermination on the Ishvalans," the Colonel scolded him. The Captain froze with his mouth open to retort, unable to come up with anything. His eyes were focused on the edge of the table as his mind seemed to be running through everything he was told by their misleading government. The Colonel thought that all of the soldiers believed in the campaign that the Central Empire was running for however the Captain didn't seem to know anything of their true intentions, of what they were really fighting for. He didn't know if he was just never told or if he was told something else.

"Do you know how the Central Empire came to be?" the Colonel asked curiously.

"The Central Empire was derived from the old one after the council's massacre on Xerxes. You rebels didn't like how things were going and slaughtered the entire jedi council. Our Supreme Leader was the only one who was left-"

"It was your Supreme leader who slaughtered the council and placed the blame on us. We tried to stop him but he was too strong because he had a clone army like you already set up in his back pocket. The entire planet fell to him and those who couldn't flee were killed where they stood." The Captain stared at him, eyes wide in shock as he tried to piece together everything that was thrown at him. He seemed to shrink in size as the Colonel knew he was right. The kid wasn't old enough to even know what he was talking about. It was twenty years ago that the Central Empire formed. The only way the Captain could have learned was by word of mouth. Unfortunately the ones he was listening to had cursed tongues. The Captain seemed to shrink from where he once sat. He couldn't seem to be able to hold himself up anymore making the Colonel glad that he gave him his chair back. He seemed to have gone into shock, the last thing in his life that he believed in was torn under foot.

"Th-that… that can't be true...i-it-" the boy tried to stutter, to find another explanation but the Colonel just shook his head as he stood up from out of his chair and gathered up the papers in his hands.

"Check your history books kid or else I will drag you to the graves of everyone there myself," he growled. The Colonel knew he wasn't going to get anything more out of him, at least for a little while until he cooled down. Though he didn't get much from the kid, the Colonel had enough information to know that the Captain was nothing what he was expecting. He wasn't even grown yet and aside from physical appearance it almost seemed that the clone followed his own morale. Clones were programmed, created from birth to have no individuality, why did this one attempt to say that they did? The thought of clones disgusted the Colonel. He hated them with every bone in his body, but hearing the clone talk about themselves like that made the Colonel question why. There was a look in the Captain's eyes that made the Colonel believe he was telling the truth about everything he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself around to believing him. There was something else that he knew the clone was hiding, though he didn't know it was intentional or not. However it was too late today to test him. He already took it a bit too far. He tucked his papers under his arm and quickly made for the door, leaving the confused and very thoughtful clone by himself, shackled to the table. The Colonel reached for the door and was about to reach it in peace when he heard a small weak voice call out behind him.

"W-what and I supposed to do now?" the Captain nearly whispered to him. The Colonel barely glanced over his shoulder to see the two golden eyes pleading at him. They looked utterly lost, and even alone. The Colonel frowned just seeing them. He knew what it felt like and for a second they looked almost human. He shook his head and turned back towards the door. There was no way he was being compassionate towards a clone trooper.

"I don't give a damn. You got two legs, just stand there for all I care," he retorted without another thought for the artificial human. He left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving the clone by himself in silence.

…

ED-0001 was sitting on the edge of his bed as the old woman doctor bandaged his arm again. She had cleaned out the stitches which were slowly forming into scar tissue as they days drew on. It was still open and she apparently feared infections so she cleaned it everyday. It hurt as the irrigation she used to clean it out stung a bit, but the Captain tried his best not to complain. She was, after all, one of the people he enjoyed meeting every day along with the small Sergeant Fuery. She carefully wrapped the gauze around his chest and over what was left of his arm, a gentle smile was displayed over her face as she did so. The Captain had to guess that she really liked caring for people, no matter even who or what they were.

"You sure are quiet today," she hummed as she picked up her scissors and cut the strip of gauze she was working on. The Captain just nodded his head numbly, his mind too deep in thought for much more of an answer. Pinako frowned at him lightly, nothing stern. That was one thing that the Captain liked about her. Everyone else was pushing him around, telling him where to go and where to be and what to say, but she, for one, cared to listen even when he had nothing to say. It was a step back from the hell of a life he was thrown in. It was a little bit of peace he could have for just a few minutes each day. "What is on your mind?" she asked him as she put her tools away in her little case.

"I… I don't know… I don't know what to do," he admitted to her as he found it easier to talk to her the more he thought about it. "Everything I lived for… was a lie. The Empire… all that I did… What am I supposed to do now?"

"I can't say," she told him as she clicked her tongue in thought. "I think that is something that you are going to have to figure out for yourself. You can't follow orders for the rest of your life you know."

"It is the only thing we are apparently good at," the Captain muttered pathetically as he felt the bandages on his shoulder with his left hand. "I thought I was doing good… we all were…"

"Sometimes everything isn't so clear," she said as she gently slapped his hand from picking at his bandages. He dropped it like a little kid who got caught doing something wrong. She handed him a black cloth which he realised was his long lost shirt and pants (the ones not provided to him by the medics). They looked like they were cleaned as there was no more blood soaking the black cloth, and the holes that have been torn in it from the battle were all repaired flawlessly. He took them gently, thanking her however his one armed hold on the cloth wasn't enough and they fell to the floor in a crumbled heap. The old lady sighed as she bent over and picked them up for him, setting them on the bed instead.

"I know the Colonel has been tough on you, but don't let him steer you wrong. He just has had a lot happen to him, we all have really, and we all deal with it in different ways," she said, taking a seat down on the bed next to him. "Everyone here has their own opinion on you because most of us are refugees from previous battle fronts. I would say at this point, it is best just to listen to yourself for once even if you're unsure." The Captain looked up at her curiously. She seemed to be thinking it over herself. He glanced down at his arm for a slight second and he frowned.

"W-what's your opinion on me then?" he asked her quietly. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because I am getting paid to," Pinako said roughly. The Captain was a little taken back as that definitely wasn't the first thing he would have expected to come out of her mouth but then a clever smile stretched across her face and he realised she was joking, at least a little bit. "I honestly hate the Central Empire. I hate them for what they do, I hate you for being created. It was the Imperial Troops that stormed Resembool thirteen years ago. I remember it very clearly, like it was only yesterday. The white helmets ran through the streets like white lightning. They destroyed the entire village, fires were everywhere and smoke was suffocatingly thick. My son and daughter in law were doctors. They ran out into the fray in order to try and help the wounded. They brought them back to our house where we tried to fix them the best we could but… I never understood why they did it but they brought back a clone as well. He attacked them in the middle of a procedure and… they were killed right in front of me, in front of the eyes of my granddaughter too." The Captain felt his heart drop into his stomach as he heard this. He wasn't old enough to have been there. He was just rounding eight years old, born five years after the take over of Resembool. But hearing this account first hand really set in stone what the Colonel had told him earlier. He was helping the wrong team.

"I was forced to run with her," Pinako continued. "I needed to keep her safe and get her off of the planet even if that meant leaving my son and daughter's bodies there in the midst of it all. I don't ever look back on that day and not dread the existence of you clones," she said harshly and the Captain looked down at the floor knowing that she had a right to be angry. But he felt her lightly grab his hand and he felt her squeeze it reassuringly. He was utterly confused as he looked up to see a soft smile on her face even over top of her slightly dampened eyes.

"However, I know you are more than just an obedient dog for the military. Urey and Sara had a reason to try and help you. I don't know what it is but I am willing to trust them, even now. It might be because you look like an old drinking buddy of mine that is making me think this but you don't act like any clone I ever met before. It doesn't mean I trust you fully, but I know you have something substantial to you. I don't know where it came from, but it is there."

"My brother," the Captain whispered, only the faintest trace of a smile on his face. Pinako's eyes widened a little bit, taken back by what he had said. "I believe I got it from my brother," he said again a little louder this time. He was rather relieved to have heard her say this. She was one of the people he only cared about in this entire place. He didn't want it all to have been a lie, not when so much more in his life was. Looking into her eyes, and talking to her, reminded him of what it felt like to have a family. Because he was a clone, created and bred in a test tube, he didn't have a real family, but Alphonse was his brother and he knew how it felt so long ago when he first met him. He didn't know he knew but it was just the way she looked at him so differently than the rest of the people he met. It wasn't harsh, it was with a soft glimmer of understanding and yet curious wonder.

His smile faded at the sudden intruding thoughts that he didn't want to listen to. The stump of his left leg started to hurt ever so slightly and he gripped it trying to beat back the memories. Why did he bring up his brother? He felt a hand rest on what was left of his right shoulder and he looked over to see Pinako looking at him innocently as if she was urging him to push forwards. He just shook his head and stood up from his bed.

"Thank you," he muttered. "For everything."

"So what do you plan to do?" she asked a soft grin on her face as she stood up, picking up her medical case to leave. The Captain shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly.

"I don't know. If I even survive this I guess I will just have to wing it."

"Now don't say that-"

"But it is true," the Captain returned. "After I answered all of the Colonel's questions, I will be useless to you. If you don't find reasons to send me trial and kill me, I will probably just be returned to the Empire and disposed of there. They have no use for a clone without a limb. I already lost my leg because I failed to follow orders once. Now there is practically no reason to keep me." Pinako opened her mouth to say something but the Captain cut her off with a small smile. "But don't worry. It isn't like I will ever give up." Pinako pursed her lips for a second before nodding her head in acceptance.

"Very well," she said turning to the door. "I expect to see you tomorrow for another bandage change."

"You know where to find me," the Captain replied. The force field reformed after the doctor had left and Captain ED-0001 was left in his cell to his own devices. He felt his legs give out on him as he collapsed back onto his bed where his clothes were left to lie. He covered his face in his hands and just held them there for a few minutes, gathering everything together. It must have been hard for Pinako to do what she did for him, to be so kind. With all that life gave him so far he was very grateful for this one showing of mercy even if it might not last much longer with his interrogations coming to a close.

….


	6. A New Ally

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter Six

A New Ally

ED-0001 was lead back to his cell after another long interrogation. He was mentally grilled and the whole thing seemed pointless with the amount of information he actually gave. He could tell that the Colonel was angry with him and he didn't seem to want to give up so easily. The man's footsteps could be heard through the entire confinement block as he stormed down the hallway. The Captain had a little trouble keeping up with the man's speed and was constantly being shoved in the back to hurry up. He nearly tripped one time and the Colonel just glared at him like he was a bug on the ground ready to be smashed. All he wanted to do at this point was to get back to his cell and sleep on the lumpy and uncomfortable mattress which felt like they filled it with rocks. That seemed more enjoyable than speeding much more time in the Colonel's presence.

"The Commander of Green Lion Company!" the Captain suddenly heard someone say. He stopped suddenly as he heard it and the guards behind him bumped into him not prepared to stop. ED-0001 looked around until he spotted a cell just down the hall with a rather familiar face sticking out of it.

"Kimblee?" He whispered under his breath in disbelief. Why was the man in a cell of all places?

"You know in no time you should be joining your friends. It would have been faster if we just killed you in Liore, but not as much fun. I don't think you will have wait much longer though," the man hummed as if the thought of death soothed his mind like a lullaby. The Captain frowned and took a step back from the man, bumping into the guards behind him.

"What?" The Captain stuttered. Kimblee laughed at him like it was the best thing he had ever seen.

"Do you know what I take pride in the most? Seeing people's faces before they are killed. Your company was a highly enjoyable experience. Even though they had helmets on, in just let me imagine more."

"Shut up about them!" He scolded him but the man just grinned and snickered back.

" With your fate in the hands of the rebel council I don't think it will be long. I just wish I could see your face when you get the news." The Captain's eyes widened and he felt his heart freeze over as he heard the man say this. They we already discussing the terms of his fate there? He knew that they were going to have to do something with him. Once answers stopped coming he would just be another useless mouth to feed. The most logical thing was to do him in. However, though he knew this it didn't stop the utter shock or fear from setting into his stomach. He didn't expect it to be so soon. The Captain felt his legs grow weak and he stumbled to catch himself.

"Kimblee, keep quiet," he heard the Colonel order as he picked a handful of the Captains collar and hoisted him up annoyingly.

"I hope you see that precious lieutenant of yours Captain," the man called out as the Colonel dragged ED-0001 down the hall and away from the psychotic man. The Captain felt his heart seize up as he heard the man's cruel laughter afterwards. He felt like he had been slapped in the face with the tauntings of his company. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to beat that bastard into the ground for all the did, but he couldn't help but feel completely terrified as the images of their bodies hitting the dirt. He felt his breath hitch as he stifled a horrific scream from escaping his mouth. There was nothing he could do to stop it, there was nothing he could do to save them nor himself. Suddenly he felt himself being shaken and he blinked a few times to suddenly notice he wasn't breathing. The Colonel had him pinned up against the wall of the cell block away from the insane man. He seemed to be trying to hold him up as the Captain noticed his legs weren't working right.

"Hold yourself together," the Colonel scolded him angrily. The Captain caught himself and shook his head, lightly pushing the man off of him with his one arm. The Colonel backed away and gave him room to breathe for just a slight moment. He felt his chest grow lighter as he managed to regain himself to a some what acceptable level. His nerves were still shot and he watched as his only arm was still shaking from his excitement. The Colonel looked annoyed and utterly unmoved at all by the tauntings that Kimblee had said.

"Come on Captain," he huffed as the guards gave him a light shove forward. They walked on down the halls of the confinement block and the Captain held his head in his hand completely in shame. He thought he was over it. He had finally been able to accept the deaths of his company and that they were never coming back. He was still sore, he knew that he would always be sore, it was a heartache that would never go away, but he thought that he could have finally been strong enough to withstand it. He wasn't. He had let Kimblee get the best of him and he wasn't even prepared for it. Worse of all he brought a subject up that the Captain had been avoiding for weeks. What were they going to do with him? He knew it would come one day, he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it, but the fear of death was still hidden in him. He couldn't suppress it any longer. If not kill then what were they going to do with him? He was just a useless clone for the Imperial army. There was nothing they needed him for except answer the questions that the Colonel had on his files. Like his company, he wasn't entirely ready to face that other reality either even though it has been nearly six years. With death looming over his shoulder he felt so utterly alone. It wasn't because he was locked in a cell by himself for nearly a month already, but probably because he was always alone to begin with. He was a just a clone left to be forgotten.

They stopped outside of his cell and the Colonel typed in the code to open the field. The Captain's head was swimming and he didn't know what to do. It was just routine for him, open the door and then get locked in, but how many more times would that occur? When will this routine just end? He didn't know what would happen to him and Kimblee just threw his mind into the pit of endless possibilities. The force field faded and the guards moved to guide him in however ED-0001 reached out for the rebel commander for the first time in his life. He grabbed a hold of the man's sleeve making him stop in his tracks.

"Colonel, i-is it true?" he asked, the man already knowing what he was talking about. A slight flicker of hope washed through him as if the man out of all people might tell him it was just a lie but he saw him nod his head.

"Yes, tomorrow the council will hold a discussion on your fate in our hands," the man said coolly, his eyes not betraying any pity. The Captain felt his heart fall as he heard this, knowing it to be true all along. The Colonel tried to shake his hand off of his sleeve but he just held on tighter.

"I-I… feel so alone. Is this what it feels like? To die?" he asked him absent mindedly. He looked up to see utter shock and seemingly fear in the Colonel's eyes. His face betrayed him for a split moment and the Captain thought he saw sorrow in it, guilt, but he knew it wasn't for him. In a split second it was gone. The Colonel shook it off like anything else and replaced it with a cold hearted glare leaving the Captain utterly confused.

"I am still alive. I wouldn't know," he replied, ripping his arm off of his sleeve and shoving him away into his cell. The man stormed off and left the guards to restore the field to its proper place, locking him on inside. The Captain watched as the man disappeared from view a deepened feeling lingering in his chest that maybe the Colonel really did have the answer.

…

Roy swirled the glass in his hand and stared at the cold ice cubes suspended in the small amount of scotch left. They melted quick in the hot air of the base. Even though he had the air conditioning running it did nothing to stop the ice from quickly diluting his drink. He sighed as he took a sip of it. That just meant he needed a lot more to put him to rest that night.  
He had been curious about the clone since he had first met him in the cell block. He loathed their creation but the clone, ED-001, was pushing his boundaries more than ever. Roy was refusing himself to admit that they were human. He would not do it. Yet, ED-0001 had showed emotions that he had only seen once before in his life, from a man he could never imagine comparing to a clone. Roy shivered and sucked down the rest of his drink, shakily refilling it. The desperation in the clone's voice after he realised they might have to execute him the next morning still ringed in his ears.  
 _"Is this what it feels like? To die?"_

The golden eyes of the clone quickly morphed into frightened green ones that Roy could only recall in his worst of nightmares. When was the last time he heard those words? He definitely shouldn't be hearing them again from the likes of a clone. Roy closed his eyes and took another large gulp of his drink, the fire burning down his throat. He sat back in his chair and moaned tiredly from the long night he had. He remembered their many interrogations, all the questions that went unanswered and all of the fear that flew through the clone's eyes. The clone looked scared and confused just like a child would have been. He was a clone bred for killing, genetically modified for war. They couldn't feel fear, regret or loss. They weren't human, he tried to convince himself. He felt a pit of fury rise in his stomach as he sat there glowering in his bedroom chamber. A clone shouldn't even begin to compare to what he had been through, for they knew no loss on that day long ago in Xerxes. Whatever happened tomorrow with the fate of the clone, he felt a burning desire to see his punishment through to the end.

…..

The Colonel was summoned to the General's office the next afternoon after his last interrogation with the captured clone trooper and he couldn't yet figure out what to do with the Captain. Sergeant Fuery was spending more time with him recently and even ate lunch in the prisoner's cell with him. The Colonel was getting worried about his attachments with the prisoner and he tried many times to get him back to the intercom room but no one else could fill the position as the clone's day guard. Though the Sergeant did give him updates on whatever he and the Captain talked about, which proved useful, he didn't want his subordinate spending more time with the clone than he needed. After all, depending on how the meeting with the General went, they would be determining the clone's fate.

Mustang frowned as he remembered the fear that was stricken into the clone the other day. It wa completely logical set of emotions with what he learned and with what Kimblee said to him, but he couldn't help but question himself. Where they doing the right thing? He didn't care if the clone died. It would have nothing on him personally if he signed the papers for it himself, but with what the clone had asked him the night before he was wondering if it was the right choice. What did it feel like to die? He only heard that question said seriously to him once before, by a man he would never see again. It brought back bad memories he wished not to have visited at all, not in the presence of one of the creatures that caused the whole mess. He knew he shouldn't have an opinion on the matter, so he forced himself not to care on the fate of the clone he had spent the last month talking to.

The Colonel walked into the General's office to find a ring of men sitting around the General's rather small desk. He could tell Grumman was getting very bored with the company of them as he was frantically trying to solve his own game of chess. The Colonel smirked as he saw the man's relieved expression when he caught sight of him. It seemed like he just wanted to get this over with so that he could get the men out of his office.

"Great you are here! Let's get started," General exclaimed in utter relief as the Colonel took the last empty chair which was crammed in the corner of the ring of people. The men all outranked him so he couldn't really bully someone into switching with him, not that he would. "To start off I would like to say that the cooks are gladly serving up pulled pork tonight on the menu. I can't wait to try it-"

"Sir, pardon my bluntness, we came here to discuss the clone that we have in our custody, not dinner," General Raven told him.

"Just trying to lighten the mood. We used to always start meeting like this," the Grumman muttered. "Colonel Mustang, what do you have for us on this case?" The Colonel cleared his throat a bit and opened his file that he was carrying with him. He knew it by heart as he had been reading it through several times over for this meeting and he was also the one conducting the investigation. Yet he opened it anyways, not wanting to deal with the group of old and powerful men who were staring him down wanting answers.

"Captain ED-0001, the Commander of Green Lion Company in the Avarice Battalion of the Extravagance Corp., was captured a couple weeks ago on Resembool in the small village of Liore. He and his company were doing their yearly harvest to collect food for their legion. Due to the Commander's input on his battalion's conduct, he had General Greed approve of a proposal to trade genetically altered seeds which the Commander made for the villagers' harvested crops. It was in order to gain the trust of the villagers for the Empire and shapen out the behavior of the Battalion's men. During battle, he was captured after aiding one of his wounded men and taken back here for questioning and care," the Colonel said. He skipped over the part where the Captain's men were all ruthlessly slaughtered as that was a case already filed by the same people who congregated there. They were tired of it and didn't want a repeat. "I managed to get information about the seeds and his involvement of their creation, reasonings for his course of action on Liore, and even his involvement in the Central Empire. Captain ED-0001 seemed unaware of the Empire's true intentions and stood oblivious to his participation in their campaign. However due to the files and information held in his tracking chip it seems that he has connections or involvement with something very high in the Empire as some of the files are confidential and unable to be accessed. I have attempted to question him several different times on these in unofficial interrogation but he seemed completely tight lipped about the subject. I don't know if it was purpose withdrawal of information or if it was on a personal emotional matter. I propose it to be the latter as he easily answered all other small questions about his company after his realisation of the Central Empire's true intentions."

"Why are we here if we didn't get any information on the confidential files? We need to extract those from the clone now-"

"I tried every method but he wouldn't talk about it, sir," the Colonel said interrupting General Fessler.

"You obviously didn't try every method. We need to force the clone to tell us no matter what, even if we have to-"

"Fessler, you know torture is against the Galactic Code of War. We can't do that," Grumman hummed disappointedly at him.

"That code is bullshit. It shouldn't pertain to clones. They aren't even people-"

"Yes but the outlook on the citizens if they ever find out would be catastrophic. We don't need any bad propaganda slayed over us by the Empire," the Colonel retorted. Fessler growled to himself and Mustang rolled his eyes. The man loved force but unfortunately it was the only thing he thought about.

"The clone is a low ranking trooper in the most forgettable battalion there is in the Central Empire. I say we just get rid of him. The files are probably some mix up or not important, probably something to do with his creation. You know they sometimes experiment on them. It is probably some record they wanted to keep," Edison stated. All of the other men nodded their heads in agreement to this.

"If they wanted to keep the file they wouldn't have put it on one of their clone's IDs," the Colonel stated. "All of their programming information is encoded on their backs. They wouldn't have put it on their chips as well."

"What if we were to use this information to make our own troops," Clemin offered. "We are running low on troops ever since we tried to stop the Ishvalan Massacre. If we-"

"The only person here that can decode the notes is the clone that was branded with them. For some reason he is able to translate it."

"No, Clemin," Grumman said. "Our men are very aggressive towards the idea of clones to begin with. Threatening their jobs as well as our morals would just create unwanted tension. We are not making clones."

"If we can't get information from him and we can't use the clone in anyway, why don't we just get rid of him-"

"We can't kill a prisoner unless rightfully tried for a crime worthy of death," Mustang told Edison again who just seemed out to kill their captive rather than figure out what was the best option. "As of right now we don't have anything substantial to try him against. He was just acting like a normal soldier, even aiding one of his own men in battle. He surrendered peacefully and did nothing wrong in the eyes of war."

"Let's not forget to mention he came up with that thoughtful idea of trading seeds on the villager's behalf," Grumman butted in.

"We are not trying to see whether this clone is thoughtful, we are trying to decide what to do with it!" Edison argued. "It is either kill him here or give him back to the Empire where he could spill information about us. He knows where our base is-"

"He doesn't even know what planet we are on," the Colonel stated even though Edison did have a point. Though the Captain didn't know anything substantial there was always the risk of having him leak what little information he had to the Empire. They couldn't risk that, not now. The group of men just sat there scratching their chins for quite some time. They didn't know what to do with the clone and the Colonel didn't quite care. All of their suggestions were ludicrous and naive. He wondered how they even got to their rank if they thought like this. After a little while however a small smirk grew on the Grumman's face and the Colonel knew that he was thinking of something and Mustang was actually quite afraid of what it was. Grumman was known to be a senile old man but also one of the best strategist of all time which was why he was the Rebel's leading man. His plans were crazy at some points and Mustang feared what he had in store for them.

"You know what really interests me about ED-0001?" Grumman muttered, playing with his mustache thoughtfully. Everyone perked up as they listened to the man seemingly talk to himself, however the glint in his eyes told Mustang he had something rather horrible up his sleeve. "He resembles Van Hohenheim a little too much. It is practically like looking at the man in the mirror. You don't see a clone like that every day."

"What are you saying, that we sell him?" Fessler asked making Grumman glare at him at even the thought of it. Slavery of many forms was still alive in the galaxy but the Rebels did not appreciate any of it. Though they couldn't change the law of all the planets, they didn't take part in it either. Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose at the man's suggestion and let out an annoyed breath he didn't know he was holding.

"No, Fessler," Grumman shut down. "This clone obviously has some confidential files and some rather intriguing origins. I would like to say unique."

"Clone's aren't unique they don't have individuality-"

"This one does," the Colonel said helping Grumman along. "I wanted to deny it a long time but everyone who has dealt with him agrees that this clone is different than what we first thought."

"Van Hohenheim was our leader until he was taken captive by the Empire nine years ago. This clone, who isn't even eight years of age yet, looks like a near exact copy of him. It is likely that his genetic material was taken from him. At some point the Captain was near enough to him, or to the people who created him to know possibly some information about Hohenheim. We could use his ties to the Empire to find Van Hohenheim and bring him back," Grumman suggested. Mustang was rather amazed that he made that connection at all. The man barely even saw the clone unless looking through security cameras. Yet, golden hair and eyes was a trait that only fell in Xerxes and it was wiped out from the galaxy's genome since the massacre. Van Hohenheim was one of the only jedi as well as Xerxian to make it out alive that day. He was the one who started the rebel forces in a nearly overwhelming desire to bring down the Emperor. As the trait for golden hair and golden eyes was rare, even rarer amongst the hold of the empire, there was only a few places it could have come from and their captured clone had it. However it was a really farfetched theory. Van Hohenheim was missing for so long, Mustang doubted he was still alive. If the Emperor killed all of the jedi in the council at Xerxes he didn't doubt that he would have wanted to murder the one that escaped. Even if he was still alive they had no way of getting him back. The clone would only have served as a useless bag of information.

"But the Supreme leader of the Empire also looks like Van Hohenheim!" Clemin argued, stating the truth. "They could have taken his genetic material from either one of them-"

"To which in that case we could use that information to take the Emperor down personally," Grumman concluded. "As the Colonel previously stated, once the clone was aware of the Empire's manslaughter, he decided to tell us nearly everything-"

"Nearly-"

"Instead of turning him over to the Empire to snitch on us, we can use him to learn about the empire. Having a clone with knowledge on the Imperial troops, designs of their stations, and even their basic maneuvers could be a great asset to the Rebel forces. If we were to incorporate him into our troops, with heavy guard of course, we could use him to fight back." Mustang couldn't believe what he was hearing. Grumman must have read his mind because he wasn't just intending on using the clone for his information, but even his fighting power. He wanted him to become a rebel. There was a huge uproar in the office and the entire room had mixed feelings about this proposition. Mustang, though amazed at Grumman's brace proposal, didn't trust the clone enough to have him amongst his men. Though he would have proved very useful in theory, he didn't trust the practice.

"No! We are not mixing that scum in with my men," Edison yelled. "He will be a traitor to us all."

"No he wouldn't," General Raven suddenly budged in. "He has no communication with the Central Empire, for the most part they probably think he died in Liore. There is no way he could leak information. However, I do fear he might try something to kill us, probably a self created terrorist attack. Though we don't have to worry about leaking information, I don't trust him fully to leave him on his own."

"This is why he would be put under guard at all times. We will not leave him alone until we are sure of his allegiance."

"He will never side with us! He is a clone. Though he looks like our previous leader he isn't one of us! He only obeys the Empire!" Fessler argued but Grumman just clicked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth in disapproval.

"Fessler I thought you to be a military man," Grumman frowned. "Don't you see this opportunity? We could catch them where they lie. We could teach our own soldiers tricks on how to fight. We could even analyse the clone's armor and advance our own weaponry enough to get through it, possibly even make our own. The Central Empire would have a difficult time trying to handle us then."

"But if he does try to attack us, how will we tell him apart from our own men?" he argued. "That clone might fight with us but I don't want it wearing our uniform. We can't disgrace it in such a way."

"Easy, he will just wear his own," the general offered. The man frowned as he thought over the words of the Rebel leader. It looked like Grumman had each of the men pinned to his proposition for one aspect of it or another. Warfare, intelligence, strategy, it seemed he had reeled them in, rather reluctantly he had to say. He didn't like it but unfortunately he didn't have any counter argument that would have been better. All of the other suggestions were flawed in some sense or another. He also didn't have the rank to debate so openly. After a little more discussion the fate of the clone was proposed.

"Very well," Grumman stated, "we will assign him to duty under guard. I need someone I can trust to look after the clone and make sure everything goes as planned, a tight ship. Colonel Mustang-"

"Yes sir?"

"I give him to you," the General said with a knowing smile.

"What?!" the Colonel exclaimed in shock as he heard the words spill out of the man's mouth. Before he could make any further argument, the General called the meeting to close and the higher ranking officers all scurried out of the room. They knew that there was going to be conflict and the cowards didn't stay for one second of it. Whenever they finished a meeting they usually did this, leaving the paperwork and hard stuff to him, but this time it was a clone. The Colonel closed the files he was holding and tossed them down desperately on the General's desk, who was smiling quite happily now that nearly everyone was out of his office. "General, you can't give him to me-"

"Why can't I? I outrank you don't I? I can do whatever I want," the General giggled like a little school girl but Mustang was not amused.

"Sir, that's not how it works," he stated flatly. "I don't want him amongst my men-"

"They are the perfect match for the job," Grumman retorted. "I heard that Sergeant Fuery was already spending some time with him."

"But you're forgetting that Lieutenant Hawkeye was the one who _shot_ him," Mustang replied.

"She is also the one who would understand him the most," Grumman threw back as he stood up from his desk and handed him his files back. "Between you and me, I don't trust anyone else who was in this room to take care of him, nor the people who fall under them. I am giving him to you and that's final." The General roughly led him to the door before stepping out of his office and locking the door behind him. As serious as his expression was before one of absolute delight spread across his face as he took a deep breath inward.

"Ahh, do you smell that? Pulled pork," he said in excitement before waving goodbye to Mustang and hurrying off to where he presumed were the kitchens. The Colonel held a burning pit in his stomach as he looked down at the files in his hands. What did he get himself into now?

…..


	7. Not Dead Yet

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter 7

Not Dead Yet

Captain ED-0001 struggled to pick his loose hair up in his hand. This was his hundredth attempt at trying to put it up with only his one hand. It had been a mess ever since his scheduled shower that morning and he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He gathered his hair up in his one hand and attempted to fix it however it just fell back down into a mess, not able to stay up by itself. The Captain cried in aggravation as he hit his head off of the wall behind him in frustration.

"ED-0001, what's going on?" a sudden voice asked timidly. He looked up to see Sergeant Fuery entering his cell with two trays of food. It was dinner and the Captain didn't know how hungry he was until he smelled the sweet scent of pulled pork. The Sergeant set both trays down on the floor and hurried beside him. The Sergeant kindly put his hair up for him and the Captain thanked him.

"I guess it is difficult to do somethings with just one hand."

"Hell yeah it is," the Captain said bluntly as he pulled his tray of food closer to him. Though it smelled like pulled pork it looked like mush. He fumbled to pick up his fork with his left hand however it just kept skidding across the floor like a slippery penny. He growled with frustration and another hand reached out to pick it up for him. He looked up to see Sergeant Fuery holding his fork up for him, taking a bite out of his own sandwich.

"I wanted to do it this time," the Captain grumbled as he grumpily took the fork from the man. The Sergeant smiled light heartedly and the Captain returned it with his own small grin before he dug into his meal.

He put the warm tray on his lap and stretched out his bare feet as he rested against the wall. It felt good as he relaxed there with the Sergeant. He didn't want to think about anything else at the moment, not even the fact that this could be his last meal. The council's meeting was today he didn't want to think about the results. The fret had kept him up the night before and he didn't have the energy to repeat that thought process all over again. He sighed heavily as he carefully lifted a fork of mush to his mouth and ate it. The food tasted good for once though it didn't look like it.

"Sir-"

"Don't call me sir," the Captain retorted lightly as he took another bite.

"ED-0001, if you don't mind me asking… what was it like… to lose your, um, your leg?" The Sergeant asked surprisingly and the Captain looked up to see him staring at his metal foot where it was resting. He frowned, not really wanting to go into the detail, but Sergeant Fuery always seemed to be able to rope him into anything. The look in his eyes was all to familiar. The Captain set his tray off to the side and took a deep breath.

"Well, I could definitely say it was the worst moment of my life," he sighed, the Sergeant seemingly instantly intrigued.

"It hurt that bad?" He asked but the Captain just shook his head.

"No. I mean it hurt more than you could imagine but that wasn't what made it so terrible," he told him. "What made it the worst moment of my life was that when I was laying there I realised that from that moment on everything was going change. Everything that I knew was going to change and I had no control over it. Before that happened I felt like I had a choice. I could just make my life better if I wanted to, but at that moment I knew I was just a clone and you know the empires thoughts on damaged clones." The Sergeant nodded his head solemnly, letting him continue. "I learned a few things but they're nothing compared to what I lost-"

"Your leg?"

"something far more substantial than that," the clone sighed. Seeing as he wasn't going to continue the Sergeant fell quiet and they ate their meals in silence. The Captain found his meal to be more plain than he originally thought, not having an appetite anymore for pulled pork. Instead of eating it, he just set it off to the side and watched the sunset from the window in the far corner of his cell. He couldn't really see the world outside but he could imagine with the colors bouncing off of the walls. Maybe if he was really ordered to be executed, things might just be easier for him. He lost nearly everything, maybe it was just time to end things before he lost anything else. The Sergeant continued to eat his food and the Captain frowned slightly. The idea of death made him feel so alone, but now that he had company it felt like a silly idea to think about. Even losing everything, it was definitely was better than being alone. He picked up his own tray again contemplating on whether to eat it again when suddenly someone stormed in through the unlocked cell. He looked up in surprise to see the Colonel there absolutely furious at something or another. The Captain felt the trap in his gut open up as he realised that he must have just gotten back from his meeting with the council. He knew what was going to happen to him. He didn't know what to expect from the man. He didn't know what he was going to be sentenced to. But the last thing he expected was for the man to dump a giant duffle at his feet.

"Put that on you are coming with me," he growled at him. The Captain stumbled to open the duffle, wanting answers to the questions that were running through his head, but when he found his own armor stuffed in the duffle bag he just became more confused than before.

"What's going on?" The Sergeant asked taking the words right out of his mouth. The Colonel took to pacing the room in aggravation, obviously not handling the problem well.

"Just get him dressed. He isn't allowed to walk around without it. We need to get him to the mechanic-"

"Mechanic?" The Captain asked but the Colonel shot him a glare as deadly as any blaster he ever faced. The man nealt down beside where he was sitting and growled at him.

"Due to some complications you have been placed under my command. Don't think this means you walk free, not that. I will have guards and eyes on you at all times. You won't be able to sneeze without asking me permission first, got it? I don't want you talking to any of my men, I don't want you looking at anyone. Do as you are told and put that damn armour on. We are getting you an arm," the man seethed. The Captain froze where he sat as he was trying to digest all that he was told. They made him a part of their military? He was even more confused than before. There was no way that could have possibly been true.

"What are you trying to pull here? Tell me the truth!" The Captain argued not believing the Colonel at all however the man just seized a chunk of his shirt and lifted him up to meet his face. He could nearly feel the anger radiating off of the man.

"i only wish I was joking. Now get your gear on," he hissed at him. As he dropped him he pointed to the Sergeant who was just as confused as he was and ordered him to help. Since he only had one arm, the clone troopers armour was a bit difficult to put on. The Captain quickly picked up his yellow marked chest piece and slid it on over his head. He positioned the equipment where it needed to go, buckling what he could and explaining to the Sergeant what he couldn't. Before long he had all of it on except the right arm pieces and he carefully placed the helmet on over his head. The Colonel, seeing him with his gear on looked like he found a new amount of hatred for him. Even the Sergeant, who never saw him in his gear before looked a little offset, like he was finally seeing him as the enemy. The Captain felt out of place in the uniform that once made him comfortable in the proximity of his company. Now he just felt like a lost chess piece that was being tossed around.

With little time to wait, the Colonel grabbed him by his chest plate and hauled him out if the confinement cell, the Sergeant scurrying behind him trying to keep up.

"Where are we going?" He asked as the man lead him farther and farther into the base than he had ever been before. It was different there, not as dark as the cell he had been trapped in.

"to one of our mechanics. I can't have an armless soldier working under me. You are already in the way as it is. We are going to get you a new arm-"

"That's going to take months!" He exclaimed.

"And it is very painful so I hope you enjoy every bit of it," the man huffed as he stopped then outside the large door of a workshop. "There will be guards coming to watch over you, in the meantime Fuery you are going to stay here. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. If he does, shoot him," the man ordered taking his own blaster from his belt and handing it to the young soldier. Sergeant Fuery looked absolutely frightened to be holding it in his hands. He didn't seem to like weapons that much and he glanced nervously to the Captain.

"Y-yes sir," he stumbled, not able to disobey orders. With a nod of his head, the Colonel turned on his heel and entered the workshop. ED-0001 turned to look at Fuery curiously as he heard small chatter coming from the workshop. The Sergeant just shrugged his shoulders unknowingly as he was as much list as he was.

"Did it hurt to get your leg?" The Sergeant asked him bravely. As they listened to the indistinguishable chatter.

"I wouldn't say it was enjoyable but compared to when I had my muscles developed it was a piece of cake."

"Oh," the Sergeant replied quietly and their conversation ended there as the Colonel yelled at him to get in there. The Captain scurried to open the door but the instant he stepped foot into the room he found himself dodging a flying metal object.

"Hey!" He exclaimed but the things just kept coming at him and one managed to hit him right on the head. He fell to the hard ground and gripped his aching head just to notice that they were wrenches being thrown at him.

"Get out of here!" he heard a woman scream as an oil rag hit his helmet. He looked up to see a person who he couldn't describe very well because they were wearing a coverall and a welding mask. They throwing whatever was closest to them and seemed to have run out of heavy metal objects and resorted to oil cloths and funnels. The Captain was dumbfounded as he listened to all of the curses that flew out of that woman's mouth. He didn't know half of them existed but here she was screaming them at the top of her lungs. The Colonel tried to calm her down but with little success. He only really had to intervene when the woman grabbed a monkey wrench and started to come at him. The Captain squirmed backwards in a pitiful attempt to get away but the Colonel grabbed the wrench from her before she could get a swing in.

"Ms. Rockbell, I know you are upset-"

"Upset?! Upset?! That doesn't even begin to describe it! I don't want that bastard in here!" she exclaimed trying to take back the wrench but the Colonel ripped it out of her grasp.

"You already agreed to taking on a patient. You have nothing to do and if this clone is going to be under me, I need him to have an arm," the man said.

"I didn't know it would be a clone!" she yelled. "I don't want anything to deal with that monster!"

"Hey!" the Captain exclaimed, standing up from where he was knocked to the ground. "I am not a monster!"

"You are as much as I am concerned!" the woman growled as she cocked back her arm and slugged him in the head. He was sent back reeling, clutching his head in pain as the mechanic pulled back her arm and seethed as the helmet took the blow. He grasped her fist and hissed as she tried to soothe her hurting knuckles. She cursed again and stormed back over to the cluttered work bench to walk off the pain.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" the Captain asked quietly to the Colonel who just gave him a glare in return.

"You."

"What did I do?" he retorted.

"You were born," the Colonel stated as he strode across the room where the young woman was doing her best to calm herself down to a manageable level. "Ms. Rockbell-"

"No-"

"Ms. Rockbell, you are the only one on this planet who can help me. Orders came right from General Grumman himself. You need to do this," he said. The woman growled to herself before she flipped up the welding mask from her face. Huge blue eyes glared at the Colonel. The Captain was rather shocked to see her. Though her face was covered in some oil smudges and grime, she was, to put it plainly, beautiful. The Captain was expecting some sort of hag, but instead she seemed to be only eighteen. With a sigh of defeat, the woman finally accepted.

"Fine. Fine. It's going to take a while to even get his port installed. He's going to cry like a baby when that happens," she duly smirked. The Captain growled at her as she stated that. It was like all the Colonel and her wanted to do was cause him pain. He already had enough wrenches thrown at his head.

"Very well," the Colonel accepted. He turned back to the Captain and frowned at him. "Do what she says. There will be guards here at all times to keep track of you. I will check up periodically. If there is any funny business I will send you back to the empire in pieces. Got it?"

"Got it," the Captain huffed. The Colonel glared at him one more time as if daring him before he walked out the door. Sergeant Fuery scuttled in after he left, the pistol he was given hanging loosely in his belt. He looked like he didn't know what in the world happened but was at least glad to see that no one was hurt with the ruckus they were making. The Captain heard some clattering behind him as he turned to see the mechanic shoving large pieces of metals off of her work bench and into a waste bucket. She tossed her mask carelessly to the side and seemed to try her best not to even look at him, muttering blueprints under her breath as she tried to figure out all of what she would need.

"Take your clothes off and get on the table," she ordered him. The Captain felt himself turn violently red as he was taken strictly a back by what she had just said.

"W-what?" he stumbled, taking a step back from her. The rolled her eyes and looked up at him rather annoyed.

"I said get undressed and get up here, I need to measure you, you idiot. You need an arm right?" she huffed. He nodded his head dumbly. "Honestly, I wonder how they even assign rank in the empire if this is what I have to deal with," she muttered under her breath. The Captain felt a flame of aggravation light up in him as he stood next to her. She was the most violent gearhead he ever met. She might not have been an old hag but she sure acted like one. He wanted to retort and comment on her own capabilities however he knew that would have just started a pointless argument which might have gotten physical. That was the last thing he needed especially with surgery around the corner and Sergeant Fuery on guard with a gun. Like the Colonel said, he just had to follow orders and get this done as soon as possible. It would only take a few months right?

With the Sergeant's help he was able to get back out of his gear. He was questioning why he had to put it on at all but the Sergeant just explained that it was probably to tell him apart from everyone else. The Captain couldn't withhold any more joy than he was at that moment. He just knew people were going to use this against him. He already had wrenches thrown at him he didn't need anything else. He hopped up on the bench that the mechanic had motioned to and he took off his helmet so he could slip his shirt off. He really wished that he didn't have to, not in front of her, but she was glaring him down before, just wanting to get it over with herself. He took his helmet off and was about to take his shirt off when he heard a tiny gasp in front of him. He looked up to see the mechanic staring at him wide eyed and curious. The Captain felt a little annoyed that she was just staring at him like a zoo exhibit and he just glared back at her in return.

"What are you looking at?" he huffed as he tossed his shirt off of the table.

"Just not what I was expecting," she returned. The Captain raised his eyebrow curiously.

"And what were you expecting," he asked flatly. The mechanic sent him a glare as she took out measuring tape and a marker.

"I was expecting a common joe with a big nose and an ugly sneer," she grumbled.

"Funny, I was thinking the same about you," he said honestly but he just got a slap on the head in return. The mechanic started to measure around his stump of an arm and trace an outline with the marker. She was muttering to herself as she examined what was left and soon started to draw where she was going to place support bolts. The Captain looked down at his arm to see that it was covered in surgical lines and blueprints. He remembered how painful his leg was to even get that attached, now it was his entire arm. He grimaced even thinking about it.

"What's the matter? You aren't chickening out on me," the mechanic huffed as she saw his expression. He shook his head quickly to ward off her insulting ideas.

"Just… remembering…," he muttered. The mechanic stood up and and looked at the measurements she recorded, tossing the marker down carelessly in the toolbox under the bench.

"I will ask Granny to prep the operation room and I will get the metal fittings. You better be prepared," she growled at him, eyeing him as if she expected him to run out of the door with his tail between his legs. The Captain stood his ground and just glared back at her. He knew that she and the Colonel hated him and that they would much rather have this automail surgery go as painful as it possibly could for him, but he had been through worse. He had his arm shot, he had his leg chopped off, he even had his muscles grown on him when he was first taken out of his growing pod. He could take it.

"Bring it on," he challenged, making the mechanic smirk with evil glee.

"My pleasure."


	8. A Family

_Authour's note: I know this might be weird but I just wanted to state that for the sake of the story I am going to cut automail rehabilitaion time from three years down to eight months. Its starwars... and an AU so yeah._

 _ **A Different Type of Soldier**_

Part One

Chapter 8

A Family

The clone didn't scream. He didn't cry, he didn't panic. He just held it all in despite it all. Winry didn't know what to think of it. She hated seeing anyone in pain, but a yearning feeling inside her wanted the clone to at least show what he was going through. He deserved it didn't he? She hated clones, loathed their existence more than anything. They were the reason her parents were dead. They were the reason she became a refugee. They were the reason she didn't have a home. There was nothing in this world that would have made her more happy than to see a filthy robotic clone get their due. Yet as she watched the strange man writhe in pain before her, she knew pain was the last thing she would have wished upon him. Though enduring it all, she saw the golden eyes shine with a ghostly light that told her this wasn't the worse pain he was ever in. She knew he already had his leg replaced, but this seemed different and she felt herself become sorry for the clone.

The Captain's legs kicked out as one of the nerves was touched and the entire operating table suddenly shook and clattered. Pinako lunged on top of the patient in an attempt to hold him down. He wrythed and squirmed unable to keep still. Winry was able to see that he was trying to pull away but his one arm was lashed to the table to prevent his interference.

"He is shaking the table too much! You need to calm him down!" Pinako yelled at her as she quickly lashed the clones legs to the table to prevent him from bucking.

"How do I do that?" Winry exclaimed as she heard a pained growl seep out of the Golden haired clone.

"Talk to him Winry. I need to attach these nerves!" She scolded her. Winry looked down at the young man. He looked around her age though she knew that was far from the case. She usually talked to patients about things they had in common but with a clone she couldn't imagine any of what that would be. Her mind was drawing a blank on ways to calm him down, all the while he was still trying to pull away from the table more. She felt herself start to panic trying to come up with something but suddenly she heard a barely audible wheeze come from the table.

"W-winry…. That's a nice ….. Name," the clone choked out through his stiffened jaw. Winry's eyes widened as she heard it and then she caught the determined look in his eye. He was trying to urge the conversation along. He needed it.

"Uh y-yes. Do you have a name?" She asked him quickly not wanting to much of a gap between their voices.

"Y-yeah," he huffed before another nerve was attached and his back arched suddenly in pain. He clenched his mouth shut to stop himself from screaming. Winry just didn't understand why he didn't let it out already. "ED…. 0001," he groaned through harsh breaths.

"I meant a real name? Do you have another name?"

"E-Edward-"

Edward?" Winry asked in surprise. He was expecting something less normal, something that didn't fit. "Do you mind if I call you that?"

"N-no… o-only Al-" he garbled before another nerve was connected. He growled at the pain and tried his hardest to pull away however Winry leapt on top of him and held him there. He needed to stay still if they were to connect the nerves properly.

"Wh-who's that?" she stumbled trying to engage the conversation more as her grandmother glared at her for not keeping him still enough. She needed to distract him, anything. The clone winced and wheezed as he tried to keep in even the smallest whimper of pain.

"M-my… brother… my brother," he breathed.

"Brother? I didn't know clones had families."

"W-why shouldn't… we?" the Captain huffed tiredly. "Y-you have one… don't you?" Winry frowned and glared at the clone, who was waiting for the conversation to continue. She saw the pain flicker across his face and she felt ashamed that in that moment she was happy for it.

"You killed my parents and took my home from me and Granny. What would a clone like you know of family?" Winry said in a harshness that even astounded her. She saw a stern look from Pinako shoot her way but she focused herself on the clone lying on the table in front of her. His golden eyes were wide with realisation, worry, fear, and seemingly pity. It was like he finally realised what he was, what he did which was all washed away in an instant as his eyes hardened at her.

"You killed my Company…. Of course I …. know what it is," he gritted through the pain. Winry frowned as she glared at the clone. She knew he wasn't even old enough to have been there, to know what it was like, but she felt herself grow angry. He didn't seem to be sorry, not that sorry would have fixed anything. But then again, she wasn't sorry for his company. Suddenly the golden eyes snapped shut as he growled and winced at the pain in his shoulder. He tried to pull away from the procedure but Winry pushed him back down and held him to the table. The Captain struggled against her, still choking down on his screams. Pinako was almost done she just needed to connect the last few. They were always the worse but they just needed him to stay there just a little longer.

"You're almost done," she told him but the clone didn't seem to believe her. "Most people cry at this part-"

"I… w-wont g-give you … the satis… faction-" the Captain choked out. He hissed and tried to kick them off of him but his legs were just lashed down and didn't move. "Damn it, Damn it."

"Come on one more Captain," Pinako said as she attached the plate to the final one. He opened his mouth and Winry almost thought he was going to scream but all that came out was silence.

Pinako pulled back when the deed was done and Winry watched in utter amazement. That clone went through the surgery without screaming, without crying. He was only eight years old though he looked like a teenager. At that age no matter who you were, pain like that wasn't something that should be taken as lightly as he took it. He was so thick headed though to not scream just because he didn't want to show her pain. It was as if he were taking it as a challenge. It was nothing that she was expecting from such a simple clone.

Pinako hooked up the compressor to the unfinished port so that is could help seal the plates to his muscle tissue and then released the restraints as the worst was over. The Captain laid back on the bed, completely lax as if he was done fighting for one day. He was covered in sweat from his excursion and the tortured look never left his face. He was obviously still in pain as his nerves must have been on fire from the procedure. Winry took a heavy cloth and dipped it into cold water. She placed it on the clone's head over his eyes. She felt that he was burning up. As she pulled back, her arm was suddenly snagged around the wrist. The clone's hand was wrapped blindly around it, firmly but gently. Winry tried to pry him off but he didn't let go.

"Th-thank you," he breathed, using seemingly all of his leftover energy to talk. "Thank you for talking to me."

"I didn't say much," she told him.

"I didn't either," he retorted weakly. Winry frowned as she heard this and grabbed his hand from around her wrist. She set it back down on the bed beside him.

"Just rest for now. You are going to be in hell for the next few months," she ordered him but she just got a weak chuckle from the clone as he winced at sudden pain in his shoulder.

"I live in purgatory," he said with a slim smile. Winry frowned as she watched the clone rest there on the bed. She hated clones more than anything. They were false people made in test tubes. They were cruel, emotionless. There was no reason that she would ever want to help one but for some reason, talking to him even in the context that they were made him seem a little more human. If that was even possible.

…...

Winry sat in the workshop, hovering over sleek sheets of metal and bolts where she was making the new arm- for the young clone. She had taken all of his measurements into account and even rechecked them but the automail still seemed small. She hoped it would fit when he tried it on or else she would have to start all over again.

The Captain had been knocked out ever since the surgery and was resting on the bed in the corner of the workshop. He was suffering from a slight fever and had been sleeping it off but it still didn't break. Guards were posted outside of the door since they were required to be there at all times even if their guard wasn't conscious at all times. The Colonel had come in to check up on him earlier and Winry almost thought she saw a slight flicker of satisfaction when he saw the pained expression on the clone's unconscious face. She didn't understand it.

"How is he doing?" She heard Granny ask her as she carried in a box of spare wiring she needed. Winry shrugged as she sifted through the entanglement of wires and pulled out one she needed.

"Same as usual. He probably won't come to until the fever breaks."

"I hope it won't take too long," Pinako sighed as she walked to the bedside of their struggling patient with another dampened cloth. She replaced the one already on the clone's head which Winry didn't realise already dried out. "If he went through all of this trouble he better be alright."

"Yeah," Winry grumbled as she set down her pliers in exchange for her screwdriver. Pinako sighed and she almost thought that she heard the disappointment in her voice.

"Winry, do you know why we are helping a clone?"

"Because we were told to by the General," she replied.

Yes… and no," Pinako said as she returned back to the workbench where she was sitting. Winry could feel her grandmother's eyes on her as if asking her to try answering again. She really didn't want to be playing games, not on this topic, not about the clone.

"Granny, that is the only reason I am helping a clone. They ravage cities they killed everyone. I can't forgive them for that."

"I know this is hard, Winry. It is hard for me too. I will never forgive them for what they did. They killed my son and daughter, they just weren't your parents," she said softly. Winry felt a twinge of regret in her for being so insensitive but she just felt Pinako's arms wrap around her like she felt it too. Her Granny hugged her for a short moment and Winry knew she wasn't the only one who lost that day. "We are in war and both sides are going to have their own perspective. The Captain there is the other side but he probably thinks the same thing you do right now-"

"He doesn't have a family. He's a clone. He couldn't possibly understand like he says he does," Winry retorted.

"You never know. Your parents were trying to help everyone, even Imperial troops who were injured that day. I think for what they went through even that is enough to say something is worth saving about them."

Suddenly Winry heard a soft groan come from the corner of the room. She turned around and saw the form on the bed shift around uncomfortably. Strange mutters were coming from the clone's mouth and for a second she thought he was trying to tell them something but upon closer inspection she realised he was hallucinating, dreaming probably. His face seemed wet but Winry didn't know if that was from the cloth. Both of the Rockbells quickly moved over to the bedside of their patient to see if there was anything they could do. Winry touched the clone's cheek and pulled away quickly as she thought she was going to get burned with how hot he was. The fever was not breaking, possibly getting worse. Granny, already knowing what to do, went to the back medicine closet to get something to help. Winry stayed there and examined the I.V. that was attached to his arm. They needed to keep him hydrated or else the fever would burn through him like a fire in the desert. The clone flinched at her touch and she pulled back quickly as if afraid to hurt him.

"I-It hurts… I-It hurts," the Captain choked as his only hand gripped the sheets beneath him for dear life. He seemed to be struggling to hold on.

"W-what hurts? Tell me what hurts," Winry stumbled as she didn't know what was going on. The only thing that possibly could have hurt was his shoulder but it should have been bearable by now, especially for how he went through surgery.

"A-Al… w-why'd he d-do it?" the clone mumbled and Winry realised he wasn't fully conscious of himself at that moment. It was as if he was just half awake, not really knowing what was going on around him. She didn't even know if he knew he was talking to himself. "M-my leg… sh-should have stopped him…. wh-why'd he do it?"

"Do what?" she asked not really knowing why she was keeping the one sided conversation going.

"I-It hurts A-Al…. it hurts…"

"What is he muttering about now?" Pinako suddenly asked as she returned with a syringe. Winry shrugged as she stood up and gave her grandmother room to work.

"I-I don't know. I think it is about his leg-"

"Well, that seems logical. He is feeling about the same pain as before with similar surgeries," she told her. Pinako picked up the IV and inserted the needle into the vacuum to empty the liquid out of the syringe. It safely entered the clone's blood stream and Pinako took a step back gathering her stuff together. Winry watched the clone's struggling expression as he continued to mutter nonsense to himself. She didn't know what he was thinking about but that Al person was brought up again. He called him his brother, but Winry knew that clones didn't have families no matter what he said. However, for him to talk about him so desperately, even in his unconscious, she wondered exactly who this Al was.

"I gave him some anti inflammatories that should help. All we can really do is wait," Pinako said as she watched Winry still stand over the bedside.

"Granny…," Winry asked suddenly, surprising herself for a moment. It was a question that she didn't really want to ask but was just completely curious about. However her Grandmother was already waiting to answer the question and she knew that she would give her hell if she pulled out now. "Granny, why would a clone want a family? " she asked her softly. She knew that her grandmother wouldn't have the answer but she just wanted to desperately know. However, like expected, Pinako simply shrugged.

"Why do any of us? You should ask him when he wakes up. I know you have more questions than that but he's the only one with the answers," she told her before scurrying off to dispose of the syringe properly. Winry frowned as her unanswered questions were still running through her head. The clone had been through a lot apparently, but she didn't know why. She tried answering them logically several times but none of them were right. Why was every second she around him make her feel like she was wrong? She still wanted to hate clones, but with what Granny told her earlier, maybe another side's perspective was in order. She wanted answers and she was going to get them eventually. She just had to be patient and wait.

…

The Captain felt something over his eyes and he tiredly reached his hand up to rip it off. His entire body was sore and he didn't feel like moving at all, but he wanted to see what was going on and his curiosity overpowered him. He groaned as he tore the cloth off of his face, and winced at the bright lights that hit his eyes. His eyes shut instantly to avoid being blinded for the rest of his days along with limbless. The memory of the surgery suddenly hit him and he felt a pang of discomfort fly through him. It must have been a few days since the pain in his shoulder was just reduced to soreness. The Captain took a glance down at his shoulder to see it coated in gleaming silver metal, the skin ever so swollen around the plating where it was attached. It might be like that for a few more days, he reminded himself as he remembered how his leg was.

This surgery was definitely more painful than the one for his leg though, being so close to the rest of his body. He wondered at some points why he didn't scream out. Not wanting to give the damn Colonel and Rebels satisfaction in his pain was a good driver, but it wasn't enough to keep him locked up. Winry however…. He knew that he wouldn't have made it if that mechanic wasn't talking to him the entire time. She was an annoying naive gear head but he was glad to at least have someone to talk to during the procedure. That was more than he had during his leg surgery and even in his muscle development. For that, he was contempt. However he couldn't help but feel ashamed for what he had said to her when she accused him of killing her parents. Though he was on the same team, he wasn't there. He didn't do it. But his retort sounded so heartless.

"Stupid, stupid, idiot," he growled to himself as he tried to sit up. He knew that he would be forced to work alongside the rebels now, and all he was doing was making more enemies than he already had.

"Who are you calling an idiot?" he heard a voice say across the room. His head snapped up and he saw the young Rockbell over by the work bench working with some wiring. He felt himself turn red as he didn't know she was there.

"Uh… no one, n-nothing," he muttered quickly hoping to end the conversation there. He cursed to himself which only made the girl more annoyed as she set down her tools and studied him for a few moments. "Stop looking at me," he scolded her as he subconsciously pulled the covers of the bed over his bare chest as if she didn't see it all already. She huffed under her breath and rolled her eyes as she dropped what she was doing and went over to him.

"You are the most immature soldier I have ever met," she mumbled and the Captain glared at her.

"You are the most insulting mechanic I have ever met," he grumbled under his breath just to get a slap over the head. He opened his mouth to retort but a thermometer was suddenly stuffed in it he nearly gagged. The mechanic took his temperature and hummed to herself as she wrote it down on a small clipboard by his bedside.

"Fever is going down, you are near normal," she told him dryly. She leaned over him and reached for his arm but the Captain pulled away from her. "Come on you idiot I have to check the port."

"It's fine I can tell," he said quickly but Winry just shoved his head into the pillow and reached for his shoulder anyways. She took the blankets off from around him and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Wow… that really is fine," she muttered in disbelief.

"See I told you-"

"No, it is too fine. It had only been a week. You look like you have healed for three at least," she said softly.

"I was out for a week?" he asked her and she just nodded at him.

"In a couple days once the last of the swelling goes down we will try fitting you with an arm and see how that goes," she said pulling away from him and tossing the blanket carelessly over him. "Maybe you can take that a little more gracefully than you did the surgery."

The Captain grumbled underneath his breath as the girl rolled her eyes and walked back over to the work bench. The world was plunged into silence once more with the soft clinking if tools in the background. He looked around absolutely bored, not knowing what to do. He huffed at himself and coaxed his sore body into kicking his legs off of the side of the bed. It was painful but he knew just laying there was no good for sore legs. He grabbed a hold of the IV stand he was connected to and hoisted himself up with a grunt. He winced as he put weight on his legs but he managed to stand up.

"What are you doing?" Winry scolded as she watched him carefully move out of the corner of her eye. The Captain huffed under his breath as he tried to take a few steps forward. He staggered a bit and nearly fell over but managed to catch himself before he smacked his face off of the ground.

"You are going to kill yourself," he heard Winry mutter.

"Shut up," he growled at her as he inched closer to the workbench. He caught it for balance and he saw Winry roll her eyes at him in complete disbelief. Without anything better to say, the Commander of Green Lion Company stuck out his tongue annoyingly at her. She wasn't fazed by that but only by the fact that he missed the stool he was trying to get into and fell to the floor. He cursed as his shoulder hatred. It was painful and he had to hold in a help at the shock of it. But the girl laughed at him in utter amusement.

"I have a hard time believing you are a high and mighty Captain of the imperials," she commented with a slight smirk on her face. She was bent back into working on her project than watching him struggle back into his chair.

"Give me a break, I am only seven going on eight," he said. Their conversation was cut off and they were sent back into silence. The Captain frowned as he tried to occupy himself with something else but he found himself leaning over the work bench watching the mechanic apply the wires to the strange contraption. She used the pliers to hook up another wire and then glared up at him where he was staring.

"Stop watching or else I will give you automail eyes," she huffed at him.

"What are you making?" He asked ignoring her threat completely.

"Your arm what do you think?"

"Oh," he hummed in new found amazement. Now that he looked at it he saw the skeleton underneath all if the scrap metal. It looked small to him but that might have been because it wasn't finished. He watched as her hands floated over the mechanisms with ease as if she had done this all her life. The Captain was truely amazed as he was completely lost when it came to mechanics.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" He asked her breaking the silence once more. She looked rather annoyed that he was interrupting.

"Granny was always a mechanic but when the Empire attacked Resembool we were taken here as refugees. We didn't want to be free loaders so we worked. She taught me how to become a mechanic," she said cooly. "If my parents were still alive I would probably have been a nurse. I have been reading their medical books since I was a kid." The Captain frowned as he turned his eyes down to the table. He felt his stomach twist hearing her say that.

"I-i am sorry," he muttered softly, "for what I said, I mean. I just… I wasn't there I wouldn't know."

"I shouldn't have blamed you in the first place," the girl replied much to his surprise. He looked up at her as if she said blasphemy. That was the first time he ever heard someone say that and seemingly mean it. He was expecting her to lash out at him again like anyone logically would. He was trying to be nice for once and finally someone was actually accepting it. It was a strange feeling and he didn't think he felt it before. As he was pondering this he heard Winry clear her throat awkwardly.

"Well… this Alphonse person…," she said unknowingly. "Can you tell me… who he is?" The Captain frowned as he looked down at the table. He bit his lip unknowing of what to say. He was kind of compelled to tell her, something in him said he should but he didn't know how. How do you tell someone something like that? But then he saw the look in her eyes. She was determined to find out and he only knew it was fair. She told him about her parents he might as well tell her about his brother. He sighed as he leaned on the table, the tiredness of his muscles suddenly working against him. He had to pull through he knew. But it was still difficult. It had been years since he told anyone about his brother, his leg, and that one other person was currently dead with the rest of the Avarice Battalion.

"When I first came out of my growing pod, I guess you could say born in a sense, I wasn't fully developed. It was a new procedure they were trying out, Experimental Development, and my muscles weren't fully formed. I couldn't move, and they had to grow my muscles on me right then and there. Within minutes of being born all I knew was pain. It was horrible, worse than automail surgery. I didn't know who I was or where I was but I knew pain. I think the worse part was the fact that no one else seemed to care. I was the only one out of my unit, even series to have survived in the pods. I guess you could say in a sense I was alone," he told her, frowning as he remembered all of the people who turned their backs to him just to dial numbers or record data on their clipboards. It was torturous. He blinked quickly, snapping himself out of it and tried his best to continue.

"Well, when I finally came to after the procedure, Alphonse was the first person I met. He was a clone like me, a sightly different series who didn't have any different programming in their development. He didn't really give me room to talk he was so excited to see me. He had been sitting in an empty bay for nearly two days trying to find if any other clones made it through. We were the only ones. He called me brother and gave me a name and even helped me walk for the first time in my life. It was the most anyone has ever done for me at that point and I can still say up to this day it was the happiest moment of my life."

"So you think Alphonse is your brother because he said so?" Winry asked him curiously. He shrugged lightly.

"I guess to put it simply, yes. We shared the same basic DNA and he was the first person to care about me, and I him. We protected each other. Is there anything else you need to have a family?" he asked curiously but the girl just shook her head like she didn't believe him. The Captain rolled his eyes. "We studied together and I taught him books and he taught me how to fight. He was even there for me when I got branded and used his own medicine back on my skin to help heal it. It was really simple stuff but it was all the best stuff I guess you could say."

"What happened to him then?" Winry asked him. The Captain was a little taken back and he looked at her stupidly.

"What do you mean?" he asked her.

"You have been talking about him like he died or something, What happened?" she said insensitively. The Captain rubbed the back of his neck tiredly and looked at the door longingly as if someone would just barge in and end the conversation there however it stood closed. The Mechanic was growing impatient with him and glared at him threateningly. "Come on, you walked all the way over here just to ask questions you might as well answer some too."

"Your questions aren't as easy," he complained.

"Well they're just questions. Come on," she scolded. The Captain crossed his arm angrily and grumbled underneath his breath. She was a bossy gear head. Suddenly he felt something kick him in the shins and he yelped pulling back from her.

"Hey, what was that for?" he yelled.

"Just answer the damn question. You can't leave someone hanging like that."

"Yes I can! I just did! It isn't like it is anything you would want to hear anyways!"

"You're just a thick headed clone, what could you have to say that I wouldn't want to hear?" she yelled back. "This is why clones don't have real families, it's cause you form senseless bonds like this."

"You don't need anything important to be family it just is something that is!"

"You are an idiot, Edward!"

"Don't call me that you gear head!"

"Just answer the damn question!" she scolded and the Captain felt himself heat up. He felt the anger rise in him all the way to his ears till he bursted.

"Fine! You want to know what happened? He cut my leg off that's what!" he yelled at her at the top of his lungs. A silence stilled in the room and he could tell that he really frightened the mechanic. He suddenly felt bad but he was still so mad at her. It wasn't anything he wanted to admit, not even to himself. Telling Pitt was hard enough and they were best of friends. But Winry had a look of pure horror on her face. He didn't know if it was because of what he said or how he said it. The Captain took in a huge breath and tried to calm himself down enough to explain. "We were in special training, we were the only ones something to do with our genetics. The Emperor was overseeing our practice. He made us duel which we were used to but with real weapons this time. I didn't want to fight him but for some reason he went berserk. He cut my leg off and I was sent to the clone troops as scrap. Is that really something you wanted to hear?" The girl shook her head and the Captain knew that he messed up.

"Your brother really did that?" she asked him and he dumbly nodded his head.

"Why would I fake a story like that?" he asked her.

"But… why would he?"

"I don't think he wanted to but… something was off with him. I don't know how they did it though but I don't think he was in control of himself. He was crying when it happened and he looked as hurt as I was. I just didn't want to fight him… not like that," he muttered. The mechanic fell silent and the Captain's eyes fell back down to his shoulder. The image of his brother was crisp in his mind and he couldn't seem to shake it. He didn't know why he did it. He didn't know what happened to him. That was the last day he ever saw his brother again. Alphonse probably thought he was dead. That could have been worse than him actually being dead. He didn't know what being alone felt like, not like he did. And now he had six years of it. He didn't know what that could have done to him.

"I am sorry-"

"I-I am not blaming you. How did you get that idea?" the Captain said a bit taken back from the girl's statement. She looked a bit surprised by his as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?" she asked him.

"You said sorry. I wasn't blaming you. You don't have anything to feel sorry about," he told her and the girl just put her head in her hands and shook in frustration.

"Oh my god. I said sorry because I felt compassionate for you, you idiot. That's what you say," she told him. "I don't even know why I feel sorry for a clone like you-"

"Well, don't. You have nothing to feel sorry for."

"I won't then," she retorted.

"Fine."

"Fine." She stuck out her tongue at him and he returned an even nastier face. They growled at each other angrily when all of a sudden the door to the workshop opened. The Captain turned around in his seat to see the Colonel and two guards stride into the room. The Captain groaned to himself and smacked his head on the workbench. He forgot all about that man. He was exactly the last person he wanted to see. Strange enough though, he was a little upset to see that one of the guards wasn't Fuery. He liked that Sergeant and wanted to talk to him again. Instead the Colonel's wingmen were a tall blonde fellow and a short dark haired woman. They looked a little nervous in their position, the man more than the woman, but the Captain still didn't find them inviting.

"Good evening Captain, you're full of metal today. I could probably pin notices to you with a magnet. That might be all you're good for," the Colonel snided. The Captain growled at him and tried his best not to look at him.

"You look only half as angry today as you usually do. Did someone put your fires out did someone just turn the sprinklers on?" he muttered underneath his breath.

"God, learn some respect clone," the man huffed in disgust.

"Only if you do."

"I out rank you by far and now that you are going to be working under me that means I own you."

"If you keep selling that line it is no wonder the rebels are short on recruits."

"At least we don't have to make our own soldiers," he huffed and the Captain just grinned and pointed to himself.

"Strongest in the pack, right here."

"You told me you were the only one in the pack," Winry reminded him.

"What a disappointment," the Colonel added.

"Hey! Shut up!" the Captain whined making the Colonel laugh ever so slightly. He turned to Winry completely pushing the Captain aside.

"Ms. Rockbell how are things going here?" he asked for the update. The mechanic sighed and just set down the part she was working on and dared to give the man a glare.

"You were in here every day. You know it takes a long time," she told him. "However he has healed a great deal. I don't really know how, but he will be ready to try his automail on in only a couple days if everything goes right."

"How is that possible? It takes at least one and a half months-"

"Meditation. It speeds things up-" the Captain smiled.

"Don't goof with me clone-"

"I am being serious. Healthy mind, healthy body. We clones have same immune systems as you. We aren't any different. I don't know why I healed so fast," the Captain retorted. The Colonel seized him by the shirt and lifted him up a bit to glare at him closely.

"I don't want to share anything in common with a thing like you, clone-"

"I would appreciate it if you used my name or something else. I might as well start calling you 'man' if you keep that up-" the Captain wheezed as he felt his collar tighten around his throat. He could feel the anger spilling off of the Colonel and he didn't know even where half of it came from.

"What's your name then?" he hissed at him. The Captain stifed a grin at the man as he tried to pull his hands off from around his collar so he could breathe easier.

"I already told you in the interrogation," he huffed. "It's-"

"Edward," he heard Winry interrupt and he just looked at her in utter betrayal as he heard the name fall out of her mouth. She just beamed at him knowingly and the Colonel looked down at him in surprise.

"Edward?" the man asked in disbelief and the Captain quickly shook his head.

"Don't call me that! Winry! I told you only Al-" he started to retort but the man let him go completely satisfied.

"A clone commander has the name Edward, that is hilarious," the Colonel grinned evilly and the Captain knew that he wasn't ever going to let it go.

"I-It's not a bad name!" he defended but everyone else kind of nodded their heads in agreement.

"It's kind of geeky," the female guard said.

"Like a nerd," the other guy confirmed. The Captain felt his ears grow red as the soldiers chuckled at his name.

"W-Well, he's named after a horse!" the Captain pointed out but even he had to admit that the name Roy Mustang sounded like something straight out of a heroic story book. The Colonel smirked knowing it was true and turned to Winry with a clever smile.

"Thank you for that information, Ms. Rockbell. Please inform us when the automail is done. I would like to see him when it is installed."

"Will do," Winry said waving the soldiers off. The guards stood posted at the door as the Colonel left them, his smile fading as he left the room. The Captain growled as he turned back to the mechanic who was trying her best to get back to her work in making his arm.

"I thought I told you only Al called me that. He was the one who gave me the name. I haven't used it since-"

"And that's a terrible way to remember him by-"

"He isn't dead… I don't think," the Captain told her but the mechanic rolled eyes at him.

"Well, family deserve respect. They shouldn't be casted aside. He gave you that name. It must have meant something special. You accepted it didn't you? You like it don't you?" she asked him. He was slightly stunned at what she had said and he dumbly nodded his head.

"Of course I like it-"

"Then use it, Edward."

…..

"Sir, I am telling you clones don't heal faster than anyone else. Infact their immune systems are arguably weaker than normal humans," Hawkeye scolded the Colonel as he paced around the small office they were in. He was deeply dissettled by this. He was a clone. He shouldn't have held up the way he did in the surgery. He didn't scream, he didn't panic, he healed way too fast. It took at least six weeks to heal and he was nearly completely done. The Rockbell even thought he could deal with an early installment. It wasn't right.

"No one can heal that fast even if they had a good immune system, Lieutenant," he said to her.

"So then what do you think it is?"

"He said meditation but he was just joking about that. He had to be," the Colonel said. "No one heals because they think about it."

"Some people do. Its part of some many religions," she commented softly but the man shook it off.

"No, clones aren't religious. They must have altered his creation somehow. I don't know. There has to be another explanation."

"Can't you use this to your advantage, sir? You have a subordinate who can take a hit now-"

"Yes, Lieutenant, but that's the problem. He can take a hit. What if he-"

"Sir, enough with the what ifs. You can't predict the future. Even a fortune teller can ask as many what ifs and still be wrong about what he is going to eat for breakfast the next morning."

"But Lieutenant-"

"Relax sir. At least try to trust in the subordinates you got to take care of things."


	9. Taking Care of Things

_Author's note: okay I am sorry but this isn't really the chapter I wanted to write but I wrote it anyways. I know what I want to do with the story but it is kind of hard to put it into good words so I wrote this chapter as I try to figure out how to get this thing rolling._

 ** _A Different Type of_** **** ** _Soldier_**

Part One

Chapter 9

Taking Care of Things

Edward felt his stomach twist as he watched Winry and Pinako busy around his arm. He knew how much connecting the nerves hurt especially on a fresh port. He didn't feel like he was ready.

"Alright almost done," Winry told him as she tweaked a few screws. Edward tried to swallow the lump in his throat but it wouldn't go.

"Hey Winry, c-could you warn me when you are about to- ARGHH!" he exclaimed as suddenly the nerves connected to the arm and lit a flame. He grasped his shoulder with his own hand as the Rockbells went on tightening it. "I told you to warn me first!" he complained but the girl just ignored him.

"If I told you you would have flinched and chickened out," she said.

"N-No I wouldn't-"

"We see it happen all the time," Pinako replied. Edward grumbled as he tried to massage his shoulder out. It tingled a bit and he could feel the weight of the arm pulling on his port. It was heavy and he knew that he wouldn't last long in it before he needed to take it off and let his port rest. That would just be a whole other set of events. The Colonel was eyeing him and he just scowled back hoping to ward him off. He was like a buzzard hovering over him at all times. He didn't know why he was even there half of the time. The Colonel should have known that he couldn't do anything until he got used to his arm and that could take months. Edward cringed at the thought of being stuck there for months of physical therapy just in that little room. He cringed even more when he thought about the fact that the Colonel would still be there through all that time.

"Alright Edward, flex your fingers," Pinako commanded him. He focused on his arm and with only a bit too much concentration he was able to do it. He flexed them one at a time, then in a fist as he was commanded to. She made him hold onto a small ball and he dropped it the first time… and the second… and the third… But the fourth time he got it if though really weak. He practiced picking things up for an hour with different motions in between so that they could check the range of the arm. He was able to do nearly everything they told him to but it was slow with some delay.

"The arm seems fine but he is just having some reflex problems," Winry noted.

"That should go away once he gets used to it," Pinako stated. "He did a lot more than he needed to for today."

"How does it feel?" Winry asked him as he tried moving his arm again. It was strained and very slow but he knew that was just his nerves trying to get used to working with it.

"Heavy. It feels like it's pulling on my port too much-"

"That' because it's new. You need to strengthen yourself and build endurance before you can wear it all the time. I think if you wear it for only a few hours today that should be enough then we can try again tomorrow," Pinako told him. They set about doing a few more simple exercises, each of which just made his arm even more tired and sore that it was before. The Port was hurting and he was sure it was going to come off at any moment.

"Uggh," he groaned as he set the little plastic ball down for a moment to rest. His hand was holding it too loosely and he didn't know he dropped it for the umpteenth time until he heard it hit the floor. He groaned even more in frustration as he forced himself to bend over and try to find where it went.

"So much harder than learning to use a leg," he grumbled.

"That's because you have more motions to learn," Pinako scolded him. "Don't expect to get out of here until a few months."

"Can't I get out of this danky little work shop?" He whined.

"You aren't leaving to go galavanting off by yourself somewhere," the Colonel stated flattly.

"You don't need someone to babysit me-"

"Actually, I do."

"You don't trust me then."

"Not in a million years."

"How about a million and one?"

"I will be dead by then so obviously no," the colonel retorted.

"Do you trust these guys?" Edward asked pointing to the two guards standing next to the bed. The Colonel looked the two soldiers over for a few seconds. The both of them stiffened a bit as they realised they were being looked over by a higher officer. The man sighed as he hated to agree with a clone.

"Yes."

"Then let them take me around-"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because though I trust them with you, I don't trust you with them. You are not leaving here until your arm is recovered. Then I will figure out what to do with you," the colonel growled. Edward frowned and crossed his arms, wincing slightly as his automail gave a small tug on his shoulder. He glanced over to the two soldiers who were supposed to be looking after them.

"Do you take offense to that or is it just me?" He asked. They glanced at each other, not really knowing whether to agree or not. Brosh was about to say something but the Lieutenant shut him up as she took the better option and just ignored the question.

"So, you kept me alive and don't even know what to do with me?" He asked the man again, turning to him.

"Wow, you really hit the nail on that one," the man said sarcastically. "Would you like a prize or something?"

"Yes, I want to get out of here," he retorted plainly. Edward glanced over to the Rockbells who were both packing up their equipment. They left the therapy stuff out and around the room for him to work on but they didn't need their tools anymore. However he saw that Winry was listening intently into their conversation. She was nosy and hasn't stopped asking him questions since he told her about his brother. He didn't answer most of them but he did learn a bit about her, like how many wrenches she had in her tool chest. "What could I do to get you to trust me?"

"Not be an Imperial clone-"

"Well…. Other than that-"

"You aren't ever getting out of here and that's final. I would rather shoot you dead myself than watch something like you walk free down the hallways of this base."

"Outside then?" Edward asked. The Colonel huffed under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. He looked like he was trying not to snap his neck ever since he stepped foot in the same room as him however Edward was pushing all of the wrong buttons and he knew it.

"If you ever are anywhere without a guard, without your uniform, you will be shot dead on will not be captured, you will not be given a reasonable trial like you had this time around, you will just be given a sixfoot hole in the ground. So ask me one more time to go outside and I will start digging that hole for you alright? And I will gladly shoot the bolt needed to fill it," the man hissed.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Edward asked him, eyes narrowing as he studied the man.

"You kill my troops, innocent people, and dare to even try to call yourself human. Why should I like you?" The Colonel seethed.

"I call myself human because I am. I might not be the same, but I am and I chose to believe it," Edward told him.

"You are a copy, never the real thing. If you knew what it was like to be human you would know that there is little comparison between you and us. To accept something like you as being human would be accepting the Devil as God. The only thing you do is kill and destroy from day one and you don't even think twice about it. Those who chose to believe that you are like us are lying to themselves. I stopped lying to myself long ago." He turned to the Rockbells and ordered them to keep him updated on his status before storming out of the workshop leaving them to where they were before. Edward hummed to himself as he stared at the doorway where the man disappeared.

"Wouldn't you give him a break?" Lt. Ross asked him softly.

"Nope. Never in a million years," he replied as he watched the doorway unable to tear his eyes away from where the man had disappeared. He wondered what truth lied in what the man said, and what falsehoods lied in his own.

….

Edward stared up at the ceiling. All was quiet in the workshop except for a small corner that Winry was working in. All of the lights were out except for the lamp she was working under which provided just a small glow of gold in the immense black of the workshop. Edward didn't even know what she was working on that late, but he didn't care. He just tried to focus on the tinkering noises and the light clacking of tools in an attempt to distract himself however it unfortunately wasn't working. Edward's mind just drew itself back to Liore and the piles of dead bodies laying everywhere, the scorching smell filled his nose and he couldn't seem to shake the image. Was this what all clones would have to face? A death on a cold and ugly battlefield? Was combat the only thing he was made for? He had tried to convince himself differently. He tried for the longest time to convince himself and others that clones were something more important. When he looked at his company he saw Pitt, a goofy mechanic, Dresden, an inspired botanist, and much more from the rest of them. They weren't soldiers, they were people. But no matter what they liked, no matter what they did, they all died the same, as soldiers. Now with that image lingering in his head he couldn't think of them as anything else. It didn't matter who they were. He was a dead man walking no matter where he went. He was a life with no worth, he was a life with no meaning. Soon he too would be a corpse shot through the chest laying flat on the dirt.

Edward wondered to himself what it would have been like to have been born a normal human being. He knew that they obviously weren't grown out of pods but rather born out of someone else. They developed much slower and they didn't have to be programmed. But more importantly they had a family. They grew up together, not because they were put in the same room but because they had a link that held them together. Something much more substantial than DNA. Edward knew that he loved his little brother. There wasn't anything in this world that would make him say otherwise but were they really brothers? Were they really family? Edward remembered Winry's argument with him about her family versus his brother. What really made it? His brother cut off his leg, his brother was the one who sent him to the clone troops as scrap. Why did he still care for him so?

It was thought by many people that clones couldn't have families, that they just weren't human enough to know what one was. Edward took the Colonel's words to heart when he heard them spew out of the angered man's mouth. Maybe he really was just lying to himself. Maybe he just wanted to be human because he wanted a reason to have a family. If he was just a clone, what reason was there? Edward didn't want to be just a copy. He didn't want to be regarded as just expendable. But if he really was just that, was there any use in fighting it?

Edward sat up in his bed and kicked his legs over the side. His automail arm was off for the day to let his port rest up some bit. He knew that it would be another painful reinstallment tomorrow but he pushed that out of his mind as he tried to calm his thoughts down. His mind raced with everything that he didn't want to think about and he felt suddenly overwhelmed. He found himself breathing hard, breathing off and he tried to control it. He focused on just taking deep breaths in and out for a while until his nerves settled. Edward just didn't want to think at all.

"Edward?" He heard a soft voice call over to him from across the room. He looked up to see Winry standing a few yards away with her toolbox in her hands. Her goggles were flipped up on her head showing two worried blue eyes shining out beneath the grime of her work. "Are you alright?" She asked him genuinely seeming concerned. Edward nodded his head, not wanting her to have to butt in but she was very skilled at doing that. Winry set her toolbox down and out of the way before she walked on over and knelt on the ground in front of him. Edward was still breathing hard and he tried his best not to look at her as he forced himself to get under control.

"Edward-"

"Pl-please… d-don't call me that…. N-not right now," Edward choked as he felt the overwhelming thoughts flood him again. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about his brother, any of it. Winry looked a little taken back by what he said but she seemed to understand.

"Are you able to tell me what is going on?" Winry asked him gently, though she seemed to already know. Edward nodded his head as he held it in his hand. His hand, not two just one, just one. There was a long moment and then Winry clarified, "will you tell me?" She asked. Edward looked up and her blue eyes caught his own and he seemed to be stuck in a trance. He felt himself heat up and his eyes started to well. He couldn't fight it anymore. He couldn't fight. Edward covered his face ashamed that he was struggling in front of her. He had cried before in his cell for good reasons, but this wasn't one. This was his mind running on his thoughts twisting them into questions he couldn't understand. He wouldn't let himself cry over this. He couldn't. Edward forced himself to wipe his eyes as he struggled to breath, to come up with an answer for her. Winry didn't say anything, she just waited patiently in front of him until he could gather himself together.

"I..I," Edward stumbled unable to even elaborate what he was feeling. He looked away trying to gather his thoughts together again but they just kept falling apart. He couldn't hold them together. However in his struggles, he felt something warm suddenly grab his hand. He looked down to see Winry grasping both of her hands around his single one. She held it tight as if trying to ground him there with her.

"Is is about what the Colonel said earlier about you?" She asked. Edward nodded his head but then quickly shook it afterwards unable to make up his decision.

"I-it's…. Everything," he mumbled, his breath still high in his throat, ready to catch in a moments notice. "J-just… why did I have t-to be made like this?" He asked her. "Why-why must… why was I even m-made if this is what i have t-to live with?"

"I don't know," Winry whispered back to him. Edward frowned and looked down at their hands intertwined with hers. They looked so much alike, but he just didn't know anymore.

"I-I d-don't know what t-to do anymore. I-I don't kn-know what I am… M-maybe I-I was just d-designed to take orders. It would be a lot l-less painful than trying to-to figure this all out by myself," Edward sniffled, forcing himself to choke down his sob which was rising in his throat. "Th-they're all dead. M-my company i-is all dead. It didn't matter who th-they thought they were, they a-are just d-dead imperial s-soldiers like the rest of us."

"Don't say that-"

"I-it's true though. What will become of m-me now?" Edward asked her, pleading her for an answer. Winry's eyes widened as she seemed to see the complete distress in her voice. "I-It d-doesn't matter if I see myself as h-human or not. I-I am not the same. I-I don't know what it's like. I can't even h-have a family-"

"No, Edward-"

"You said it yourself Winry. Wha-at I thought was wrong. I-I lied to myself. I-I don't… I don't think I want to be here anymore-"

"No. Edward," Winry said firmer, not giving him room to interrupt her this time. Her blue eyes were stern but not cold, quite the opposite. They seemed sad actually. "Edward I don't know why I said what I did. I think I couldn't believe it myself when I told you that. But you do have a family, Edward. It's what you make of it. It doesn't need to be DNA or of the same mother, or any of that. It is just who you want to have around you. It is who you want to see smile." Winry took a breath and she squeezed Edward's only hand a little tighter. Her eyes welled up a bit and she tried to wipe them dry in an attempt to pull herself together.

"E-edward. I don't know what makes us human. I-I don't know if there is really a definition out there. But our l-lives… they're all full of pain, but afterwards there is always some light. Wh-when my parents died I was taken here. I was cared for and I became a mechanic. Now I build these amazing things. I help get people up on their feet again. I am giving you an arm. You… you had all of these terrible things happen to you, but you are here for a reason. Please don't say things like this."

"I-It just… it hurts Winry. I don't know why, but it hurts. I don't want this anymore. I just want it to-" Edward stumbled but suddenly Winry wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close in a hug. Edward was shocked so suddenly that his mouth dropped open in speechless words. Winry hugged him and he felt some of the panic that was in him flutter away slowly. Some of the tightness that held his chest loosen a bit, and some of the pain he was remembering heal over ever so slightly. Winry hugged him, on of the first times he ever felt that sensation. He didn't really know what he was experiencing. Winry pulled away and wiped her eyes.

"Does it still hurt?" She asked him. Edward looked at her confused. He wanted to say yes but that wasn't true. It was as if something that had withered away inside him for so long just finally disappeared. Like he was slowly lightening a burden he had been carrying for so long yet from what he didn't know. He was still in pain, he still hurt, but less so. Winry chuckled weakly, a sadness still hung over her, and she stood up gently.

"Edward, please get some rest and… think about it in the morning." Winry stumbled away and turned off her desk lamp, plunging the room into darkness again. The door closed and locked behind her as she left for the evening. Edward forced himself to follow her instruction and he laid back on his lumpy bed and stared at the ceiling for quite some time. Maybe it was better to think about it, just later. Edward fell asleep feeling like not the same man he had woken up as that morning. He felt almost truly human.


	10. Who You are Talking To

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Chapter 10

Who You are Talking to

Roy walked lazily down the halls of the rebel base minding his own business. He was supposed to go check up on the clone to see how he was fairing in his therapy however Roy felt that he had enough of him to last a week let alone a lifetime. He would ask the Rockbells later how they were doing. His other subordinates were getting very curious as to who the clone was and had mixed feelings on his presence there. Fuery was the only one who met the clone aside from Hawkeye and though he tried to hide it, Roy knew that he had become attached to their new asset. He had banned Fuery from going to the workshop after his first few days on guard duty. Being attached to the enemy was not something he had thought was possible within his command and yet it was. He didn't want Fuery making the same mistakes he did when he was younger. Clones were not sympathizers so their should they be. He seemed really upset about this new order but with time he would understand.

As he strolled aimlessly through the hallways of the base he heard someone call out to him from behind. He turned to see Riza walking down the hall. Her face was as straight as ever but Roy caught a gleam of anger burning in her eyes. He felt the fear stricken in him as he knew he must have done something to upset her and now was going to face her wrath. However what he did, he couldn't say.

"Colonel, Sir," she addressed him as she came to a stop right infront of him. The anger was radiating off of her and Roy could tell out of all the things he had done to get on her bad side this must have been one of the worse. He quickly cleared his throat in an attempt to break up the fear that was lodged there and spoke clearly as if to try and pretend he wasn't just a little afraid of his own subordinate's capability of shooting a rifle.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" he asked stiffly, his palms sweating lightly from the glare she was sending him.

"I was down to see ED-0001 today. His therapy is turning out well but with it only being a couple days he still has a lot of work to do to master the arm's functions," she said professionally as possible and yet her glare wouldn't waver from him.

"Ah," Roy grumbled, not wanting to hear about that clone right then. Couldn't he get a break from them for at least one day? Why did the General ever have to put it under his command? He shook his negative thoughts and smile falsely back at his subordinate even though he knew she could see right through it. "Thank you for the status report. I will be sure to check up on him tomorrow-"

"Sir," she interrupted him, not willing to change subjects in the least bit, "I also talked to Ms. Winry when I was down there."

"And?" Roy questioned, not really knowing what she was getting at or what she was so mad about.

"I heard what you said to the Captain the other evening. She feared for him last night Colonel. What you said really could have hurt him-"

"This is war, we are not worrying about feelings. I said what I said because it was true. I was letting him know his boundaries and his place. How he takes it emotionally is not my problem."

"With everything that has happened to him he is probably suffering from emotional trauma. The young Rockbell told me what the Captain had said last night and it shouldn't have been anything running through anyone's mind. You need to watch what you say or you might not have a clone anymore, Sir."

"Well I say good riddance," Roy retorted. "I meant every word I said, Lieutenant, and if he takes it to heart then he might just learn what clones really are. I have witnessed first hand what they do and dammit, if they can actually feel emotions they are going to learn real fast what damage they can do."

"Sir," she breathed. "I know you witnessed their destruction first hand, so have I. But I think you are forgetting that superiors are supposed to take care of their soldiers. The Captain is now one of us and it is your obligation to care for his safety, whether it be physical or mental."

"I will be dammed if a clone ever will have a place amongst us. And I do believe, I give the orders Lieutenant, so you should think about who you are talking to."

SLAP! Roy's eyes went wide as he felt a rough sting on his cheek from where her hand had hit him. His fingers gently reached up and touched his cheek. He stared at his subordinate in shock as she glared at him, the fury even greater than he had previously imagined. She never hit him. Even when she was angry, she never hit him. She was too professional for that. The anger that had risen in her was just barely finding its way into words. And though other people if they were to witness their conversation would have been lost, he understood perfectly.

"I think you need to remind _yourself_ who you are talking to next time, Sir," she gritted out at him the pure rage behind her eyes was fuming yet her face stayed straight and to the point. "I will be turning in an incident report on slapping you, Sir. I apologise but do mean it in the most minimal way possible."

The lieutenant turned and walked off towards the offices where she would undoubtedly be turning in her report on her assault and losing a few good remarks in the process. Roy brought his hand down from his face and looked at it for a second. In all of his hatred he had set towards clones he had forgotten everything he had learned about his subordinate. He cursed himself as he looked up to stop her and apologise however she was gone, having disappeared down the hallways sometime ago. He groaned as he lifted his hands up to his head and gripped his hair. How did he become so lost in his anger that he had forgotten one of his own was the exact thing he was fighting against?

…..

"Roy!" he heard an excited voice exclaim behind him. An arm quickly wrapped around his shoulder and dragged him away from his path to the Xerxes library. The entirety of soldiers still in initial training were on leave for the holidays except for him. The Jedi Council gave him classes ontop of his military training and he had to go back to the library to study for them while all of his friends were on leave. He knew it was going to take the entire break but he hoped that if he worked hard that they might just cancel the classes scheduled on Yule. However a persistent force was now dragging him away from his work.

"Maes," he groaned as the man had an unrelenting grip.

"Come on Roy, though you're a Jedi in training it doesn't mean you can't take a break and have fun-"

"I will have fun after this exam. I need to study or else I will never get out of the academy-"

"You can do what you want after we go to the market for a good round of drinks-"

"But-"

"Drinks!" Maes shouted above his complaints. Roy rolled his eyes in disbelief as the man dragged him away towards the market where they knew a good Cantina stood. He couldn't help but a smile play across his lips at the man's antics. That man would be the end of him. He knew that ever since they first met in the military academy.

Maes dragged him to the bar and ordered up a round of beer for the both of them. The place was full of random people coming in and out of the Capital port of the Empire. They were of all shapes and sizes but each wore a look of holiday cheer. Maes sat down across from him, two large pints in his hands frothing over the top. His eyes glinted with joy and Roy couldn't help but let his friend's happiness seep into his own.

"Maes you know I am not old en-"

"If you are old enough to join the military, you are old enough to drink! I got a good deal with the bar tender who had similar thoughts on the matter," Maes answered with a sly wink. Roy smirked as he couldn't say no to that! He sipped the heavy foam off the top of his drink and sighed as he let himself relax in his seat. He didn't know how stiff he was until he finally was able to get a little time away from that blasted library. He could practically recall all of the book call numbers by memory. Maes chuckled lightly as he watched him.

"You really need to break away from those books," he said. "It is like you are living with a lightsaber up your-"

"It isn't my fault," Roy complained. "I don't even know where this examination will take me. The Jedi council just said I had 'potential'. I don't even know what that means-"

"I say they are trying to turn you into a freak with all that wizardry stuff-"

"Hey!"

"It's cool! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity but you can't let it take control of you to the point I have to fight you to get a few beers down your throat," Maes joked lightly though the concern was shining through his green eyes. Roy smiled sadly at his joke.

"Yeah, I guess you are right. Besides, I probably won't even make the cut. I should just focus on my military training. That would get me farther."

"I heard with all of the hard work you're pulling you might get that honor's promotion at the end of the cycle. You would be First Lieutenant before any of us even hit second," Maes added.

"Are you looking forward to saluting me?" Roy grinned devilishly making his friend nearly send beer out his nose.

"In your dreams," the man exclaimed. "I am going to get farther in investigations than you ever would in the police. In no time, honors promotion or not, it will be you who will be saluting me. And I will gladly search you out in the crowd just so my wife can watch you do it!"

"Wait… wife?" Roy choked, sitting up in his chair. A huge grin spread across his friend's face and Roy's eyes widened as he realised what the man was telling him. "You proposed?! To Gracia?!"

"Yup just last night. My sweet Gracia and I are already planning our wedding for Yule-"

"That's in two days!"

"Next Yule," Maes corrected him. "Thought it would be nice to have it in the holidays to give everyone a break."

"I can't believe this," Roy muttered in beautiful disbelief. He wished that he could have been there to atleast help the man find a ring or come up with a clever idea for his now fiance. However this was what he got for being stuck in the library for so long. The smile on Roy's face couldn't even begin to falter at his friend's happiness that was until there was a commotion across the bar. Shouting picked up and the two of them stood up quickly to see a scuffle starting. Without even glancing in Maes' direction, Roy quickly raced over towards where it was starting. He saw a rather large man standing over a quivering form on the ground. He was yelling rather insulting curses at the man who appeared to be sporting a rather large black eye.

"We don't need any of you filthy science experiments around here! You monsters should just get out of here!" the larger foe growled before giving another kick. A short yelp of pain sounded through the bar and cheers from the crowd ignited in encouragement. Roy had enough. He was about to step forward when Maes grabbed his shoulder.

"Roy, do you know what that is?" he asked in disbelief.

"It's someone who needs help, Maes. Let me go-"

"It's one of those clone people," he whispered. Roy's eyes widened in shock as he looked back at the man lying on the ground. He could see slight scarring poking out from beneath the collar of his shirt where his genetic information was burnt into him. It was a new program that had hit the streets just a decade ago. The Master Jedi Van Hohenheim created the first successful clone and then the Military had the idea of making more. They initiated a clone corps into the military academy and trained completely separately from the rest of them. The first batch was finally 'matured' enough to begin their own lives but they tended to keep to themselves. Roy never saw one before. The Program was highly controversial and the civilians didn't like it. It was unnatural and Roy even had concerns about the project. However as he saw the clone crumbled on the ground with the man's boot pressing down on his chest, he forgot all about his political concerns on their creation. He smacked Maes' hand off his shoulder and stepped into the ring.

"Think you can take jobs from us, huh? A stupid test tube creature-"

"Hey!" Roy shouted shoving the man off of the clone. "Get off of him!" The large man stumbled back and glared at him like he was ready to charge.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, Cadet?" he growled and Roy looked up to see that it was one of his own commanding officers from school. He felt his heart freeze as he realised he just attacked one of his own commanders. He gulped, swallowing a hard lump in his throat as he quickly lifted the clone to his feet. Maes quickly entered the crowd and grabbed a hold of the clone, escorting him out of the spot light.

"S-sir!" he exclaimed, standing quick to attention, though his eyes were wary of the man's next actions. The Captain stumbled over towards him and towered over him, the reek of alcohol falling off of him.

"Do you know what you are doing, protecting those things?" his awful breath asked him. Roy tried his best not to gag but he was having a hard time conquering it. He couldn't believe one of his own instructors could let himself get that wasted.

"I.. I don't know, Sir," he shakily replied. The Captain gave him a light shove and pointed back into the crowd.

"Well, bring him back, Cadet. I wasn't finished-"

"No, Sir."

"What did you say?"

"No! Sir!" Roy said louder that time with more effort to keep his nerve contained and hidden from the Captain's sight.

"You are disobeying a direct order-"

"We are out of uniform, sir, and not on duty. I also don't think that you actions are for the betterment of the military or-"

"Betterment of the military?! You know what those things are capable of? Do you know what they can do?! They take our jobs and soon they will take our homes! They are programmed robots and someone's in charge of them. What happens when that person's ambitions change?" the man raged, his obvious paranoia getting the better of him.

"Sir, they are just human. They aren't capable of anything more than we are," he huffed, giving the man a good glare. It was obvious if it came to physical fighting that Roy would have been pinned or knocked out in ten seconds flat, but the Captain looked like he didn't want to take it there. He knew what it would look like if a commanding officer got into a fight with a trainee. That wouldn't go down too well with the higher ups. With a slight glance to the crowd. The Captain straightened out and wiped some beer foam that still clung to his mustache, and angry grimace stained to his face.

"Once you quit lying to yourself, Cadet, you might be able to make a good officer," he growled before shoving him out of the way and staggering through the crowd. Roy felt all of the wind he was holding rush out of his lungs as he made his own way out of the fighting ring. Curses and complaints were thrown his way for stopping the fight but they fell upon deaf ears. He carried himself back to the booth that they were sitting at earlier on shaky legs and collapsed into the seat. Maes was there with the clone, trying to do his best with a glass of cold beer and his black eye. The other brown eye was watching him carefully from across the table beneath a mop of brown curly hair. Roy picked up his own glass and downed the entire content in just a few large gulps.

"You must be the craziest person I have ever met, Roy, or you have a death wish," Maes told him as he let the clone tend to his own injuries a bit.

"That's why we are friends. You're the sane one," Roy muttered knowing his own stupidity for jumping into a fight without even looking at who his opponent was. He massaged his brow tiredly wondering why he ever let Maes drag him away from the library. However in the middle of his regret he heard a near inaudible whimper from across the table.

"Th-thank you," he heard the clone say. Roy looked up and saw a pathetic pout on the clone's bruised lip. Roy glanced down at the table and his empty glass.

"You're… welcome," he muttered.

"Well, that definitely gave us enough excitement for the night," Maes interrupted the silence with a little more cheerful voice. He slipped the full glass out of the clone's hand and replaced it with Roy's empty one. It was still cold but Roy could tell Maes just needed a drink for himself to absorb the night's turn of events. "Might I ask you what that was all about?" he asked taking a sip.

"I… I just came in because I needed to get out of the barracks for a while. Everyone else stays in for the evenings studying but… Well I came here and wanted just a drink of juice but people don't tend to take kindly to us-"

"Juice?"

"I am not old enough to drink. I am only eight-"

"Could have fooled us," Maes smirked. He turned and waved to the waitress trying to get her attention for another round.

"You don't seem like the type that would be in the military," Roy asked, eyes studying the clone as he tried to soothed his injuries from the fight. From first glance, Roy wouldn't think that he would survive one day in the academy. If he was really in a military program he would have held up a little longer in the fight. For an elite breeding experiment, it wasn't turning out too well.

"I am not. I hate fighting. If you couldn't tell, I am pretty bad at it," the clone joked lightly with a weak smile spreading across his face for a split second before fading. He turned his eyes down to his lap.

"Why don't you do something else?" Roy pushed him lightly. There was a long pause, the clone's eyes widening at the idea as if he had never thought about it before. However he just shook his head disregarding the thought.

"I can't. They won't allow me. I was made to work in the military. There is nothing else I could do," he whispered making Roy and Maes realise how damned his life was.

"So do you have a name there?" Maes asked, taking the conversation away from the depressing road it was on.

"HC-0310"

"Whoa, ew, what type of name is that?" Maes exclaimed. Roy kicked his friend underneath the table for his obnoxious comment.

"What he means is, don't you have a real name?" he asked. The clone frowned.

"That… is my real name," he muttered shyly.

"We are going to have to fix that," Maes smiled as he spotted the waitress come back to the table with a round of beers. They were spilling over, the bartender obviously taking care to give them as much as they possibly could. The waitress winked at them, telling it was on the house for stopping the fight and Maes thanked her transfering them all to the table. He shoved a pint in the clone's hands who was about to switch it out to cool his black eye but Maes stopped him.

"Whoa there buddy, we are going to drink this one."

"But I-"

"Hush…," Maes smirked as he pointed across the table towards Roy. "Neither is he, and he's a jedi in training."

"Shut up, Maes," Roy growled at him as he saw the oogling eyes of the clone.

"So let's drink up and hopefully in our drunken state we can come up with a better name for HC-whatever over here!" They all chuckled lightly as they all downed another pint and laughed at each other's jokes knowing full well that they would have to walk home that night.

…

Roy stood in full garnished uniform next to Maes and his wonderful bride Gracia as the photographer lined them up for a picture. The crowd was throwing rice and Roy could barely contain his overbearing grin. There was a bright flash from the camera and smoke raised in the air from the phosphorus. Maes kissed Gracia for about the hundredth time that day and then quickly beckoned someone from the crowd over.

"Heathcliff, come on! We gotta get one with you!" he exclaimed as the less decorate but still finely dressed soldier protruded from the crowd. The brown eyes and curly mop of hair was a lot brighter than Roy had ever seen them before. He ran up the couple steps of the church and hopped in the photo just in time for another flash to go off. Maes smiled as he lifted the clone's hat off of his head and messed his hair.

"Come on you lot. Can't a woman join the party?" Gracia smirked just as cockily as Maes did. Her large white dress bloomed around her like an angel which Roy had to bet was one reason why Maes had married her. Gracia had to be part saint unless you ever partied with her then she's a wild animal. Cheers rang up from the men around the chapel and they sent the married couple to their own getaway car. Maes hopped in and lifted his wife into the vehicle after him without even using the door.

"Away to paradise!" he exclaimed making his wife laugh at his foolery. Roy chuckled as he watched the car drive away towards where Hughes had planned the reception, Xerxe's capital City community hall.

"He's a character," Roy heard Heathcliff smile behind him.

"You're just figuring that out now?" he retorted, having to shout above the noise of the cheering crowd. They walked off towards Roy's own car so that they could make their own way to the actual party. Roy got to the driver's side and opened the door climbing in, Heathcliff taking the passenger's side. He tried to buckle himself in but had trouble manuevering the belt around the small blaster attached to his hip. Roy frowned as he glanced down at it. He noticed that Heathcliff had it the entire wedding.

"Hey, why are you carrying that thing around with you, I thought you would have turned it into the arms room," Roy asked him. Heathcliff looked down at it before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I wish I could. The entire barracks was ordered to withdraw their weapons from the armory today. I don't know why. Even though I have the day off for Mae's wedding, I had to pull it. It's utterly ridiculous," he muttered.

"The things they make you do. The only times they have us do that is if there is an inspection."

"Yeah, I wish it was like that. I feel stupid carrying this thing on my hip as we are at a wedding. What am I gonna do with it? Shoot the groom?" he laughed.

"With your aim you wouldn't have to worry about that," Roy poked. They fell in silence as they stopped at a red light. Other crafts zoomed across the hot dusty streets of Xerxes. Even though it was Yule and winter, it was extremely hot on the planet. Roy couldn't imagine spending too much time outside. When the light turned green they continued on their way, following the wedding chariot ahead of them.

"Roy, how has being Captain treated you?" the clone asked him. The man was still a cadet even after all of his years in training. They didn't move him up the ranks yet even though he was practically a man, 9 years old.

"Pretty well since that jedi exam didn't work out. I was amazed at the sudden promotion. Maes had been predicting that I would have gotten the honorary promotion for my grades in training but for Captain? We couldn't imagine that. I guess my studies really paid off-"

"In chemistry though? You're an MP."

"Yeah, well, that was more of just a hobby than a career path."

"Do you think that might help me? Get promoted I mean?" Heathcliff asked him earnestly.

"What a hobby?" Roy asked him with smile. The clone nodded his head. "Well, what do you like to do?"

"Drink beer," the man joked but Roy just jabbed him in the ribs.

"Aside from that," he chuckled. Heathcliff pondered in more silence.

"I guess… I like flowers." There was a short pause as Roy absorbed what the man said before he burst out laughing. "Hey! Shut up!" Heathcliff retorted weakly as Roy felt tears running down his face from how hard he was laughing.

"Fl-flowers? Ha! Gonna be a florist?"

"M-maybe! It is better than what I am doing now. If they ever let me out of the military… maybe I could be a florist. I arranged the flowers for the wedding didn't I?"

"Yes you did," Roy admitted, his laughter dying down.

"It's just a hobby but what else am I supposed to do? I feel like I am going to be a grunt for the rest of my life. I don't want to be ordered around anymore. I want to live!"

"As a Florist?"

"Why not!" Heathcliff retorted making Roy chuckle lightly as he pulled up to the Community Hall which was a large intricate looking building near the capital port.

"Well, I guess we are all just trying to survive in this messed up world. If flowers make you happy, I say go for it." he told his friend. Roy knew that clones didn't have any choice in what jobs they pursued. It was practically slavery, but he didn't want to tell Heathcliff that. He probably already knew. Yet the clone's face brightened up at his encouragement.

They got out of the car and entered the party. It was a beautiful scene and followed through perfectly. Hughes was already dancing on the floor with his wife when everyone arrived and Roy knew that they wouldn't be separated all night. As time waged on Roy found himself over near the obviously spiked punch bowl getting himself a rather questionable drink from it. Hughes came up next to him with his own glass already full.

"Roy! How is everything going?" he asked him. "You're looking pretty lonely by yourself. Makes me want to have Gracia throw the bouquet at you just to get you hitched."

"Yeah well, I don't have time for a girl-"

'What about a-"

"No! Maes!" Roy glared at Maes' playful behavior.

"I was going to say a piece of cake. Heesh, Roy, if you were into men I would have suggested that first," the groom smirked as he lead the man over towards their wedding cake. It wasn't cut yet and stood three tiers tall with intricate designs carved into the white frosting. They definitely went all out yet the flavor was hidden beneath the icing and Roy couldn't tell what they got.

'Hey aren't you supposed to wait for the bride to get a piece?" they heard someone say behind them. They saw Heathcliff smiling behind them.

"Bah, we'll be waiting all night for her to eat it! I got to choose the flavor. It was the one thing we disagreed on," Maes said, waving the cutting knife around in the air. Roy quickly snatched it from him before he could poke someone's eye out. It was no wonder why Maes was in Investigations and not Military Police. He was horrible with weapons safety.

"What did you get?" he questioned the groom.

"Carrot!" Maes announced proudly while the two of them shivered with the thought.

"We want dessert not a salad!" Roy poked at him.

"I would have thought that Gracia would have-" Heathcliff started but didn't finish as he suddenly faltered, gripping his head with his left hand. He groaned slightly as he swayed a bit and Maes caught him.

"Heath? Hey are you alright?" the joyful man asked suddenly concerned.

"I… I don't know," the clone mumbled. "I think I just need to lie down for a bit," he muttered. Maes put down his plate on the table and quickly grabbed his friend by the elbow.

"Come on. There is a lounge with a couch. It should be quiet in there," Maes started and pulled him away across the room. Roy watched them, worried for his friends yet a sense of anxiety started to creep up on him. He watched them cross the dance floor and he couldn't help but watch how Heath's right hand twitched down near his blaster holster. Roy's eyes widened as he saw the man suddenly pull it out. Hell seemed to freeze over in a minute and Roy thought that maybe the world was going to end. There was a crackling sound as a bolt was released and the smell of burnt flesh filled their air as the gun fired. The guests screamed as they watched the groom collapse to the ground and the clone standing over him. Roy let out a small scream as he grabbed the cake knife in his hand and charged towards his friend. He tackled the clone to the ground, sending the blaster spinning out from his hands. Heath tried to wrestle him off of him and his looks betrayed his strength. The thin looking clone was a tough fighter probably from all of his time in the academy as a cadet.

"You… You," Roy shook but couldn't finish as he didn't have any words for him. The rage inside of him ignited in a fit of fury. He couldn't believe what had happened. He couldn't believe what he did. As Heath tried to shove him off, Roy slammed the man back into the ground making the man's head smack off the floor. His shoulders here shivering and Roy thought almost that the man was laughing until he got an actual look at his eyes. He was crying.

"Please… Please," Roy heard him whisper as Heath threw him off of him. Roy tumbled and Heath leapt on top of him trying to rip the cake knife out of his hand. The man was strong even though he was seemingly breaking down crying as he tried to kill him. Roy felt the clone's tears fall on his cheeks as he hung over him. He was still muttering nonsense, but Roy suddenly realised he was begging him. "R-roy, I-I can't… I can't control myself. P-please stop me. Roy, please stop me!" he cried. The knife drew deadly close to Roy's throat but with a quick twist of his legs and a push of his hips, Roy was able to flip over on top of the heap. With his momentum in the fight the knife plunged down and quickly lodged itself into the clone's chest. Heath's eyes grew wide with shock and Roy was left gasping for breath after their fight, his eyes locked on his friend.  
"Th-thank you," the clone managed to mutter before his mouth filled with blood. Roy scrambled backwards away from his friend as screams picked up again in the room. He felt the blood on his hands and could still feel the clone's tears on his face which was quickly growing cold in shock. Roy quickly stood up trying to get away from the limp body of his friend and staggered away from him. A scream of horror was trapped in his throat, unable to release itself and admit what he just did. Party guests were racing past him in a blur of colors and dresses. They were making their way towards the door in panicked screams.  
"Maes! Maes!" he heard a woman scream and turned to see Gracia leaning over her newly wedded husband. Red stained her nice white dress as it laid over her. Roy raced over to his friend's side and looked at the bolt wound in his abdomen. It was bad, very bad, but Roy tore off his jacket to try and help anyways. He ripped his shirt into bandages and quickly tried to wrap his friend up. Did anyone call the ambulance? Why weren't they there yet? He heard a cough come from the groom and Roy looked up to see the man struggling in pain.  
"Maes, everything will be alright. We will get you out of here-"  
"I-I didn't think… I didn't think he-" Maes whined.  
"Maes?"  
"R-Roy, th-the clones…. Th-they a...aren't w-with the m-military…"  
"What?" Roy breathed in shock as he dared himself to glance behind him. He saw the limp form of their friend lying on the ground, a silver cake knife sticking from his chest. The image seemed to sting Roy's eyes and he had to quickly look away but Maes gently grabbed his shirt pulling him lower with a weak hand.  
"Th-they… fo-follow orders… not their fault. I… I just didn't th-think," Maes started but finished in a round of coughing. Blood sprayed the air as the man hacked and Gracia let out a whimpering cry at the state of her newly wedded husband. Roy panicked with the wound but saw that the makeshift bandages he was holding to it were bleeding through. He scrambled for more cloth and lunged over his friend and ripped good length of fabric from his wife's dress. Gracia saw what he was doing and quickly started to help him.  
"Maes, when did you find this out? W-why didn't you tell me-" Roy begged him, feeling the water fill his eyes. However the man before him was quickly going into shock. He didn't seem to be able to focus and words of nonsense spewed from him.  
"Investigations… All of th-the clones… they're-Errgh," Maes groaned as his body started to shiver, aggravating the wound more. He was losing too much blood. He was growing cold. Roy heartedly tried to cover the room but he looked around him desperately for a sign of an ambulance. Why weren't they here yet?  
"Someone! Please, get an ambulance! Something!" he cried though the entire wedding party was still running for the door to save their own lives. He felt the hand on his shirt tighten ever so slightly and he looked back through tear filled eyes to see Maes looking at him desperately. That was the first time he saw his friend look truly scared in his life. The man was too happy. That look didn't belong on him. He shouldn't be scared they were going to save him.  
"I feel cold, Roy. I-Is this… Is this wh-what it's like to die?" Maes whispered barely audible to human ears in the chaos of the room. Roy shook his head.  
"N-No, Maes-" Roy cried as he still pressed down on his friends wound trying to save his life. The man's green scared eyes turned over to Gracia and the woman openly cried. This was their wedding for god's sake. Why? Why did this happen? Heathcliff was their friend. He was the gentlest person Roy had ever met. Why did he just- Roy couldn't even think it let alone say it. Even as Maes' body grew colder and colder beneath him, even as he saw the life slip from him, clawing to stay in his body, he couldn't say it. Maes became still and Gracia's cries berrated Roy's eardrums as he just stared at his two friends laying still across the room from each other. Both of their blood coated his hands and stained his uniform. It felt heavy, and cold.  
After a little while, his own tearing thoughts quieted into a numbness and he eventually stood up to allow the newly wedded Mrs. Hughes some space to mourn the death of her husband. He knew every night from there on out she would be a married woman in an empty bed. Roy staggered across the room towards where Heathcliff was laying. The burns on his back poked out from the collar of his shirt showing that he was not fully human. Roy knelt down next to him and picked up the blaster the clone had dropped in their struggle. He stared at it, the cold metal of the blaster shining in his grasp. Unlike a knife it was clean of any trace of a kill. It had no emotion, no remorse. Roy found his grip tightening around it as he glared at the stiff body of Heathcliff. He believed full heartedly that clones were humans, for the longest time he didn't want to deny his friend even that, but now he came to realise that the Captain in the bar fight all those many months ago was right. He had to quit lying to himself.  
"Gracia," Roy whispered at first but then cleared his throat and tried again. "Gracia we have to go." He stood up and turned around to see the woman dressed in white and stained in red still thrown over her husband crying now with dry eyes. It seemed even she wished for more tears. He walked over to her and quickly nudged her shoulder urging her to move.  
"Gracia we have to go," he repeated.  
"I-I can't. R-roy why… why would he do this? Maes he- he's-" she mumbled nonsense but Roy showed her the blaster he was holding. He had put a few things together as he regretted ever meeting Heathcliff at all. HC3100 was not the only clone in the city.

"Gracia we need to go. We need to get off this planet," he told her with urgency. "Heathcliff wasn't the only clone who drew a weapon from the armory. All of them did. I think they are planning on attacking the-" He never got to finish as he heard the rise of gunfire approach down the street. This was their plan all along, why the clones were invented at all. They were staging a coup. He quickly picked up the reluctant bride and slung her over his shoulder, quickly racing towards the door where all of the other party guests had fled out of. The woman was hysterical, but Roy wouldn't hold it against her if they lived. When he reached the door he paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. His eyes darted back for only a split second to see the two lifeless figures on the ground amongst overturned tables and decorations. He felt his heart harden in that moment as stone became a permanent fixture in his body. His eyes narrowed as he turned back towards the door and flung it open charging out to the street. He lifted his blaster with the intention of shooting everyone of those bastards on sight.

….

Riza sighed as she stepped out of the shower. The hot steam that filled the room warmed her skin and seemed to wash away her anger and frustration. She had just got counselled for assaulting her own commanding officer. They let her off with a warning and orders to go on weapons detail and clean the blasters in the armory the following weekend. If she didn't turn in the report herself she could have been reassigned.

She shivered as her wet body started to cool off. She quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped herself in it. The towel was soft and warmed her as she busied herself with cleaning up for the evening. She started to brush her hair, minding the tangles but her thoughts were elsewhere. She never thought she would do something like hit the Colonel. Such an act against a superior officer…. It wasn't like her at all. She was just angry at what he said. Winry Rockbell was worried for the Captain last night. The mechanic had pulled her out in the hallway specifically to talk to her. Riza could hear how upset she was in her voice. The Colonel's actions were affecting more people than he knew. His words were even getting to her.

Riza sighed as her mirror clouded up from the steam of her hot shower. She grabbed the hand towel from the sink and started to wipe it down in hopes of actually using it that evening. As the fog was wiped away she could see her own tired face in the reflection. Her brown eyes bore bags underneath them as he shoulders seemed to sag underneath their own weight. She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly trying to soothe the aches in it that she gained through her long days on her feet. Her fingers lightly brushed over rough scars that patterned her neck and back, ones that she never forgot were there, but it seemed the Colonel did. Riza turned slightly to look at them in the mirror. Intricate patterns scorched themselves into her back as strange markings were inscribed there. She didn't know what they meant other than she was a clone. She sighed as she stared at them and touched them gently with her fingers. The Colonel wasn't thinking of her when he said what he did. He was only thinking of the Imperial soldiers and those created by the empire. However words still stung, like the fire that burned her. And she knew that her words could never change the man's opinion. He was a forgetful idiot.

Riza gasped as there was a sudden knock on her chamber doors and she quickly ran and grabbed a robe to wrap herself in to be a little more modest than a towel. She tied it up and exited her bathroom to run to the door. There was another series of knocks as she reached it and she hit the panel. The door slid open only a few inches as she looked out to see the Colonel in his own casuals waiting nervously on the otherside. Her face hardened as she saw him, remembering their fight earlier that day. She wasn't angry anymore, but that didn't mean she would let him know that.

"Sir, it is late," she said stiffly, hoping to ward the idiot off.

"I… I brought you coffee… and not the bad stuff either," he mumbled as he lifted the cup up for her. Her eyes glanced down and saw the steaming cup was filled to the brim and she thought she caught the scent of hazelnut, her favorite. Her eyes returned back up to his face to catch the immense regret he held there. She only had one thing to say about that.

"Sir, if I drink coffee I will be up all night." The man's eyes widened and he smacked his forehead with his palm at his own stupidity. As he was cursing himself Riza quickly grabbed the cup of from him before he could retreat with it.

"Riza, I am sorry-" he started to explain but she cut him off knowing he had probably prepared a long winded speech on how sorry he was. She did not want to hear it for she already understood.

"Colonel, sir, I understand you have been through a lot, but we all have in our own remember that next time you talk to him tomorrow-"

"Tomorrow-"

"Yes. But I don't think the Captain accepts coffee as apologies," she said stiffly. The man's dark eyes widened in surprise to what she said as if he wasn't expecting her to accept his apology at all. As he opened his mouth to probably say something ridiculous, she cut him off, "Good night Colonel." She quickly closed the door the few inches it was opened and turned back to her chambers. Sighing she leaned back against the bedroom door and took a sip of her coffee despite what she had said earlier. It was about damned time.


	11. How to Clone

**_A Different Type of Soldier_**

Chapter 11

How to Clone

Edward had his arm attached the next morning and the pain still filled his shoulder as Winry guided him through more excersizes. He still had trouble picking up and holding things in his hand but his range of motion seemed to get better as he continued. The Colonel was there again as well as the two guards Lt. Ross and Sgt. Brosh. The Colonel looked just as pissed off as he normally did but Edward didn't dare talk to him. He barely even could bring himself to look in the man's general direction as remembered what had persued last night. A heavy silence hung in the air which no one seemed satisfied with.

Edward quietly began to do his tossing excersize with mumbles of instruction from Winry. It was mindless work however still managed to frustrate him when he couldn't catch the ball when she tossed it back. He kept dropping it and the would spend five minutes trying to pick it up from the floor. In his aggravation Edward was about to cry out when suddenly the door to the workshop swung open and everyone looked up to see who it was. They were the only ones who were supposed to be in there as Winry assigned all of her mechanics jobs over to other workers as she was focused on helping Edward get his arm. Everyone seemed surprised to see an elderly man with a rather amazingly made up mustache walk in. He held a clever look in his eye that was trained on Edward for a little too long. He got the distinct feeling that the man was up to something and it had to do with him. He didn't like it. When the people in the room saw him, they all stiffened and stood at attention as he walked through the room. Edward didn't know what was going on and leaned in to ask Winry who it was.

"That's the General!" she hissed at him, smacking him on his left shoulder. He whined as he rubbed the sting out of his shoulder and glared at her.

"At ease everyone. You all act like I am a stick in the mud," the General laughed making Edward seem even more unsure about him than before.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" the Colonel asked him delicately as if he didn't want to press the man to hard or he might pop.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about our food crisis and I wanted the Captain's expertise here-"

"You what?!" the Colonel exclaimed before Edward could even say the same thing. The man just nodded his head and played with his mustache a bit.

"Why yes. You do know that our grain supply was dwindling the past few months. I found out we finally ran out of bread when I couldn't get my morning toast. This atrocity must be handled!" the man said as he was seriously concerned for his breakfast.

"No one was ever told this!" the Colonel raged.

"Why didn't you handle this before you ran out of toast?" Edward asked him but he just got a death stare from the Colonel as if he couldn't even imagine a clone talking to the general at all. However Grumman just laughed it off, telling the man it was alright.

"It was under General Edison's control. He was extremely stingy with the details of things and let's just say his definition of fine was highly different than mine. He's being counselled as we speak," the General said. "However Captain, I do need your help with this."

"i dont know anything about agriculture!" Edward said. "You are on a desert planet! There is no possible way to grow food here!"

"We know that. We grow it ourselves here in the greenhouse. But I do have to bet that if you made those seeds in Liore you would be able to do it again?" the General grinned. Edward froze for a second as if he was taken back. He thought that the man was joking on his statement for help or was just going to throw it away afterwards but it looked like the man was being completely serious. The Rebellion needed food. Their base was on a desert planet so there was an obvious lack of nutrients and resources from the start but if the rebel's own greenhouses were failing there wouldn't be much time until they would be fully reliant on imports alone. Like the Empire, that was dangerous. One entire legion was fed by the Avarice battalion. It was gone now and they were undoubtedly struggling to find other resources. Food held the power no matter who was in charge. He didn't even know this was a problem in the rebel forces, he was too busy dealing with whether he was going to die or not. Now he felt guilty for only half eating the meals they gave him.

"You really need my help?" he asked him and the man nodded his head.

"Sir, I must try to convince you-"

"No, it's alright Colonel. If you think about it the crops are already failing. If the clone messes up it wouldn't do any harm on the problem we have already. If he helps then we all get full stomachs and a better understanding of things," the General smiled. "Now I think if the young Captain here would get dressed we could show him our greenhouses. If that is alright with the doctor of course," Pinako frowned as she eyed the automail arm on him one last time. He could tell that she was weighing his options but then just shrugged as if everything was fine.

"Why not. As long as he is careful and doesn't over work himself I think it will be alright. However any sight of significant pain or blood he is coming right back here to get patched up," she said. "He shouldn't be in the arm too much longer for today. It will wear him thin." Edward felt a flicker of excitement in his stomach as he realised he would be able to go explore around the base a bit. He only knew a couple places on the entire base and they were his cell, the operating room, and the workshop. They weren't places anyone would like to be stuck in for long. He had a case of hay fever and even if he had to have soldiers on guard at all times it was worth it just to get out. The Colonel seemed to have sensed his excitement and quickly put a damper on it when he pulled out his armour from where it was stored at the foot of his bed. He forgot all about having to wear that stuff. It has been a while since he put it on because he was bed ridden most of the time. He groaned as he grabbed his shirt off of the bed and slipped it on. He really did not want to wear that. Not now.

With his arm still stiff, he needed help to get all of his armor on. It wasn't a fun experience, not with the Colonel helping. He tightened some of the plating too much and around his port the plates were heavy. They aggravated it too much and he had to get Sergeant Brosh, who was one of his deemed bodyguards at that time, to loosen them a bit behind the Colonel's back. He knew that wearing his armour would have put more weight on his new arm then there should have been but he had to wear it. There wasn't a way that he could go out in public without it on or else the council would have had his head. He groaned as he stood up. It all felt three times heavier than before.

"Alright if we are all settled-"

"Sir, I really do think-" the Colonel started but the General cut him off with a smile.

"I hope you will think differently after the Captain sees what he can do. We didn't keep him alive to just sit around anyways," the man said and Edward remembered that he was still technically a prisoner. The General was right, he was only good if he was useful. Now Edward realised how important it was that he try to help the rebels. Not only would they starve if he didn't fix their food problem but he would be useless if he couldn't. Edward gulped as he felt the eyes on him glaring skeptically. He wasn't an expert on agriculture. He was just a clone with a science project.

…..

Edward ventured down through the halls of the rebel base, staring at everything he saw. It was a bigger base than he originally thought and now he was being taken into the deep bowels of it where the greenhouse was apparently located. It was amazing. Glass ceilings, air-conditioning, and large plots where grains were planted. Compared to the desert sands of outside, one could be completely convinced they were on another planet in there. It was so green and even through his helmet Edward could smell the freshness of the soil. He felt something in his heart flicker as he remembered the vast open fields of Resembool. He missed the fresh air and the scenery, all that was ripped from him when he was dragged to this dust bowl.

They lead him to the control panel where computers were set up to regulate the environment of the house. They held statuses and planting seasons of each of the plots. He noticed that some of the statuses were red, meaning that they weren't growing right. Someone was huddled over the computers scanning them. She seemed to be a doctor of some sort or a scientist as she wore a lab coat very proudly. The General lead Edward to her and in his amazement the senile old man slapped her on the butt to get her attention.

"General!" the woman exclaimed suddenly as if it happened enough for her to know who it was. Edward felt his face heat up as the man chuckled and he saw the Colonel shake his head in disbelief.

"Good morning, Emily, how is the fort holding up?" he asked the startled woman completely ignoring what he just did.

"General, we isolated the plants that seem to be doing fine. We concluded that there seems to be an infection that is getting amongst the crop. However I don't know how long it is until it spreads-"

"Not good, not good at all," the General hummed as he shook his head. He inched Edward a little closer to the woman as if trying to get him in on the conversation but he was still only half knowledgable of what was going on in the first place. "Well this is the Captain I have been telling you about, the one that made the seeds?" he egged on and Edward realised that she seemed to recognise a previous conversation which meant they were talking about him behind his back. "He is going to fix our problem."

"Try to-" Edward reminded him but they seemed to ignore him at that moment.

"Ah, so you were the one who made those seeds everyone found," Emily acknowledged and held out her hand for a shake. Edward took it curiously as she seemed completely ignorant of the fact that he was in white armor.

"I don't really know much about agriculture-"

"Yes but you must be into genetics if you started cloning, maybe you would be able to help. We have a few scientists here but in the case of microbiology we have been lacking greatly. How much do you know?"

"Uh… i-it's kind of just a hobby… I picked up… I am only eight…. not long," Edward stumbled as he tried to explain.

"Good enough for me," she said with a smile. "All science is a hobby right? Where do you want to start?"

"Could I get some cell samples?" he asked her curiously and she nodded her head as she started to lead him down to the plots however before he could step off he felt a hand grab his shoulder and pull him back. He let out a tiny yelp as it tugged on his automail a little too hard and he gripped it trying to suppress the pain that flared up. It was always in a constant muffled pain but he was able to ignore it unless someone touched his arm in the wrong way. Edward glared up to find the Colonel's cold black eyes on him.

"If you try anything i will see to it that you never eat again-" Edward grumpily pushed the man's hand away and scoffed at him.

"The only thing I am trying is to keep your base from starving. It isn't like I have any choice," he growled as he turned away and followed the doctor down to the plots. They started to begin their discussion on the plants and their activity. He was able to go down and collect some clippings from both sets of plants in order to test. He knew that this was a job that was going to take a lot of work so he made sure to get enough. The guards that were assigned to him, 2nd Lt. Ross and Sgt. Brosh, stood off to the side completely out of the way. They seemed completely clueless as to what they were talking about. As Edward was shown around he heard them whispering to each other about him. He only caught snidbits of the conversation but most of it seemed to be discussing his age. Emily, who after a bit of conversing found out was both a PhD and a MD, showed him a small lab station that was set up back at the control panel. He noticed that there were several books on fertilizers and organic compounds to where he concluded they used that station to design better soil for the plants to grow in. He was very surprised that the rebels were taking a step in innovation. In the Empire he was always told that the rebels were primitive thieves. They didn't create, just take. Now he knew that it was definitely all lies.

After thanking Emily, he got started on his analysis which he knew would take a couple hours. He really hoped he was heading in the right direction or he was sure that Mustang would have his head. All he was doing was trying to repeat his first experiment with the seeds for Resembool, but if he didn't find what was wrong with the plants he knew he would just have a whole new mess of dead crops. Edward wrote down everything that he did. He wished that he had his own notes which were back at the base on Resembool. They would have come in handy, but with the way things went down in Liore, he was glad to even be alive at that point. He nearly spilt a beaker of buffer when he even thought of that. He caught it and clumsily put it back on the table before anything could spill. He needed to stop thinking about Liore, at least for now. It was great that he got out alive but to be the only one….

"Is everything alright, sir?" he heard someone ask and Edward looked up to see Ross staring at him with a bit of concern. He quickly nodded his head and turned back to the table where he was working.

"Y-yeah, we just need to wait on this to finish up….," he mumbled as he turned back to the table. There wasn't much equipment to work with but he was glad that they atleast had that even though it was out of use and completely out dated. It was enough. "wh-what were you and the sergeant talking about earlier?" he asked curiously trying to change topics. The lieutenant seemed to be caught a little off guard.

"Uh… nothing, sir-"

"I am sure of it," Edward said sarcastically as he picked up his protein samples from both of the cells and started to compare them. "I know you were talking about my age right?"

"Y-yeah," the lieutenant admitted in defeat.

"I am only eight but that doesn't mean I can't work like a functioning adult. In how my body grows I should be about eighteen right now. We develop faster than you, mentally and physically. Though it still doesn't give us much experience in other things," Edward said. He felt a jolt in his shoulder and a stiff pain started to ignite in it. He forced himself to fight it off as he looked down and continues to analyze.

"Which was why we were…. um we were wondering how you are taking everything," the Lieutenant said.

"You mean being captured, having my entire company killed before my eyes, losing my arm, finding out my entire life is a lie, being verbally abused by your superior officer, and undergoing an excruciating painful surgery all within the span of a few months?" Edward asked rhetorically without even missing a beat. The Lieutenant looked very taken back by how casually he had said it all. She looked rather frightened by the sum of it all as if even she wasn't expecting it to be that bad even though she obviously thought it best to talk to the Sergeant about it. Edward glanced back down to the analysis and heavily shrugged his shoulders. "As good as the next person I suppose."

"Sir… we just wanted to offer that if you ever need anyone to-"

"To talk to about it?" Edward interrupted her. "I think, having just listed off all of that, I don't need. It's quite long winded and even I have trouble listening to it. I am sure the Colonel would be thrilled that you are trying to help me though. He seems like the fatherly type." he finished without an ounce of sarcasm left in his reservoir. Their conversation stopped after that and Edward picked up the pencil he was given and started to jot down a few notes and picked them back up to look them over one more time. There was a sudden sharp pain in his arm and he winced but quickly rubbed it out as he looked over everything one more time. He couldn't stop now. Edward called out to Emily who was across the room. The woman rushed over to him in a heartbeat, excited to see what he had found out.

"Do you know what type of infection it is that is affecting the crops? Fungal, bacterial-" Edward asked her.

"Viral. The plants don't seem to have an immunity to it," she told him.

"That's great!" Edward exclaimed to everyone's surprise. Emily looked very confused and raised her eyebrow at him.

"It is?" she questioned and Edward nodded his head as he showed her what he had received.

"If that is so… it looks like the surviving plants have some protein that the dying ones don't. That might be some sort of defense. All of the samples that I have from the infectious free ones have this. Some enzymes are able to prevent viruses from replicating. This might be it and our problem can be solved easier than testing a million and one antifungal sprays or what have you," Edward told her.

"That's amazing!" Emily exclaimed as she punched him in the arm at his proposal. Edward yelped as his arm roared with pain, much more than it had been feeling recently. It seemed to be getting worse throughout the day and started to make Edward a bit light headed at times but he managed to shake that feeling off for as long as he could. He needed to get this done.

It wasn't just the fate of the base's crops that lied in the outcome of this experiment but also his own. This was Edward's one shot at showing he was actually usefull for something other than a prisoner who was a waste of space. He would do anything to get out of there, to at least have a bit of freedom. If he failed to help the crops, if he couldn't cure them of this infection, the rebels would have no greater reason to keep him around and they themselves would surely starve. As the Colonel stated they already didn't know what to do with him. Hopefully if he did this right he would give them something to keep him around for. As a clone prisoner Edward was already walking around with one foot in the grave. He didn't want a failure to push him all the way in permanently.

Emily stole his notes from him to try and look them over. Edward waited by casually to let her review them. He was leaning heavily on the table as it seemed his arm felt heavier than it did just a few minutes ago.

"How did you even get into this, might I ask? I wouldn't think that a clone trooper would be into science," Ross stated suddenly and Edward turned his head to look at her. She seemed absolutely confused with what he had just said but he didn't blame her. Edward sighed as he relaxed a little.

"Me neither. I am the only one that I know of. We all have our hobbies because what else are we going to on free time? We had a lot of it on Resembool being such a small battalion. Pitt was into mechanics, Desden was into botany, I was into cell biology. It is a bit more specific but it managed to help a lot I guess with cloning those seeds. The mission didn't turn out too well…. obviously…. but if it did…I believe it would have helped a lot of people."

"How did you learn this though. I wouldn't think that the Empire was big on educating its troops-"

"I… I don't know really. We are all programmed with basic knowledge when we first come out of our growing pods, Storm troopers learn it in schools, and they give us texts for certain trainings but… it was never like this," Edward muttered as he thought about it. "I saw the data during my programming from the scientists who helped develop me and I heard them talking a lot about my DNA and growth and all of that stuff then… gradually I just knew… I don't really know how it happened."

"You just knew?" Brosh asked curiously and Edward just nodded his head.

"Yeah, kind of like falling asleep and when you wake up you just know more-"

"That's not how it works-"

"But that's how I explain it. I honestly don't know how I learned half of this stuff. I decoded my brandings as well as Pitt's and learned more about the process of cloning. When I was little I read my brother books about different topics to help him study but I would never finish them. I would fall asleep halfway through and then wake up knowing all of it."

"That is weird," he muttered but Edward shrugged.

"You're telling me." There was an awkward silence in the air and Edward winced again as his shoulder jarred once more. He could tell that the lieutenant looked worried for him however before she could say anything to him, Emily came back over and handed him his notes back.

"These look alright. Might we keep them when you're done?" she asked and Edward shrugged.

"It isn't like I would be needing them anytime soon," he muttered. "I would like to get started on the transformations right away though. The sooner we get this done the better."

"Whoa slow down there tiger," Emily chuckled as she put her hand on his chest plate. "It's getting late and we need the Colonel approving all of this."

"What? Why?" Edward exclaimed.

"Just the rules. But you can get all of the preparations ready if you want. I will just call him down to observe," she told him. If he didn't solve this he was as good as useless to the rebels. Now with the bastard Colonel coming in he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to finish the process. The Colonel would find at least something wrong with it. He would try to find corruption, a conspiracy, when all it was was a silly little science project for a curious clone, nothing more.

Time wore on and Edward finished setting up for the cloning process. It was just a few simple dishes and pipettes that he needed but he had trouble even getting those all together. He found that his right arm was becoming less and less responsive but he forced himself to continue. He felt the room grow very hot all of a sudden and a jolt of pain rode up his arm. He hissed as he rubbed it out once more, wishing all the more that he could take off that heavy armor. It was stressing his automail too much.

"Are you alright?" Ross asked him with a concerned look on her face. Edward nodded his head but otherwise didn't answer he didn't think he could. He was leaning heavily against the table when the Colonel walked in. The piercing black eyes landed on him instantly as if ready to strike if anything were arye. Edward straightened up under his glare as the man walked towards the other side of the control panel. He kept his eyes on the man as Emily presented his proposal to him. As she was estatic, the Colonel was not. Edward felt his stomach clench as he saw them discuss it. The more the man listened the more he seemed to grow angry.

"Clone!" the man called out to him, his voice on the verge of breaking. Edward stood up, his shoulder growling at him as he rushed over to the soldier nearly scared out of his wits from the sudden outburst. The Colonel's cold black eyes burnt through his helmet and Edward found him fearing his work.

"Is this it?" the man asked as if Edward had just created a huge prank. He nodded his head but a hand grabbed his chest plate and lifted him up to eye level. "Answer me when I ask you a question. Is this all?" Edward growled at him and shoved the man off of him.

"What do you mean is that all?" he asked him.

"You spent all day coming up with this? It is two pages of nonsense," the man said pointing to his notes. Half of them were in crypted symbols which the man couldn't translate. The only parts he and Emily could read were the ones he wrote for them.

"Those are my lab notes. I write them in code-"

"And why would you do that?" the man asked him furiously. He seemed to want to find any reason to distrust him. The Colonel was searching for a fault to sentence him with. He wanted him dead. Edward grabbed his papers from the man roughly and held them away as if to try and protect them from the man's venomous doubt.

"Force of habit. I learned half of what I know from the markings on my back. If you want I could translate them for you. It isn't that hard."

"Next time think about who you are giving these to-"

"I wrote a clear summary on the bottom and the Dr. told you what I was going to do; transform the unfertilized seeds and enhance their growing period. It isn't that complicated to understand-"

"If it isn't that complicated why can't I read it?" the Colonel growled at him. Edward rolled his eyes.

"Maybe if you weren't so prejudiced against us you would be able to understand cloning more-"

"I don't need to understand you. You are all the same. I want to know what you are planning!" the man yelled at him. Edward felt his face grow hot as he had it with that man.

"I am trying to save your food supply asshole! Nothing more!" he shouted at him.

"There is always something more with you! It can't be this simple! You are planning this. What were you going to do with those seeds in Liore?" The Colonel returned as he still kept up with his stubbornness.

"It is just a stupid science experiment-"

"Why then? Why did you make those seeds and why are you making them now? You don't need any part in this and yet you are butting in for no reason. It can't be just a simple science experiment with the Empire there is always something more with you clones! All you do is kill and destroy!"

Edward felt himself choke on his anger. He remembered the desperation the night before. He remembered his doubts, he remembered where his mind had wandered and he hated it. He hated how desperate he was for a reason, to just follow orders. Now when the man he was supposed to be following was interrogating him for some higher plot he realised he didn't need orders. He didn't want them. He made that experiment by himself. He got sent to Green Lion Company for the sole reason that he didn't obey orders. The hatred that sweltered in the man's face was nothing compared to the flames that built up inside him since the day he came out of his growing pod.

"I have no reason!" he yelled at him near the top of his lungs. His voice rattled in his chest and silenced the room around him. He felt all eyes on him as the fire inside of him burned with the brightness of all of the suns in the galaxy. "I don't need a reason to make those seeds. I chose to make them all on my own. I saw those people starving on Resembool, in all of its towns my first time out and I never wanted to see it again. I made those seeds to help, to give food rather than just take it, and for once I was doing a pretty good damned job at it! That is until you came along! What happened to those seeds? Did you confiscate them? Or did you actually let the farmers plant 'enemy' seeds? They would have starved without them and as I remembered before you slaughtered my entire company for no fucking reason you blew up our transports, which by the way, had all of the fucking food in it!

I come from the enemy. I was genetically altered and created by the Empire, but even so I don't give a damn! You need food. You need help. Yes I am a clone but if you haven't realised I am the most capable person to fix this, whether or not you see me as a fucking human being or not. I told you exactly what I am going to do with your crop, you can watch me if that satisfies your fear. Now for once in your life, stop creating your own goddamn conspiracy theories about what I am and let me be! I am just a fucking person trying to survive in this messed up world! I don't need a reason other than that!"

The Colonel opened his mouth to retort but something seemed to catch him off guard. His black orbs flickered with something that Edward only understood as a sudden painful curiosity but he didn't care what had the man so dumbfounded. He was seething mad and he didn't care about the Colonel's opinion at that point. He was going to succeed in his project. He was going to be useful whether the man wanted him to be or not. Edward huffed under his breath and tried to straighten himself out. His arm seemed to be weighing him down no more than normal and he was leaning on anything he could.

"I am going to finish his whether you want me to or not. I was not created to just destroy things, the world just made it my only option. Now I can change that," Edward hissed, barely above a whisper. He took his notes back to the workbench without another word and slammed them down on it. The guards around him looked at him as if he was suicidal. Edward believed they might have been right. The one man who hated him most was the only person between him and the gallows and he just insulted him. Even if he did finish the transformation he was still sure as dead.


	12. A New Perspective

_READ THE AUTHOR NOTE: okay so I am finished with edits I believe. Mustang incorporations have begun and will develop now as the story continues. If you would like to read the updates they are mostly in Chapter 10 now. I wanted to put this in for a while now but since I got this far I realised I missed my chance for a good intro to Mustang's background as well as hinting at Riza's . So I had to go back and place it there. Sooooo yes. Go back to Chapter 10 and enjoy! (Please Review!)_

 **A Different Type of Soldier**

Chapter 12

A New Perspective

"A-Are you alright?" Lt. Ross asked him as he was doubled over in a coughing fit. He was getting worse and everyone was slowly growing to realise it no matter how much he tried to cover it up. He just needed to finish this though. He was almost done and he couldn't stop now. As he felt like he was going to cough up a lung he steadied himself against the lab bench. The automail arm was all but useless now and he used it only when he really needed another hand. The shoulder port burnt like it was on fire but after such a long period of time with suppressing the pain it felt like nothing. He remembered the Rockbells warning him as well as the Colonel about wearing his arm too long. This was only the second day he had it. He shouldn't be pushing himself too far, but he had to. Edward was almost done with the cloning process. He was almost finished. He just needed to stop coughing for once and get back to work.

"I-I'm fine," he choked out as he picked up his vial of transformed cells. He needed to get them on the medium so that they could grow into seeds. He grabbed a small rod and started to pour the solution out on some growing trays. He could feel the eyes of everyone on him, except Brosh that was. The Sergeant had fallen asleep once the clock struck midnight. It was late at night… or rather extremely early in the morning. Lt. Ross was fearing for his health as she stood next to him as if he was going to fall over at any moment, which he didn't doubt. He already broke several beakers as his automail hand just let go of them as it's grip failed. That unfortunately set him behind schedule as he had to remake all of the solutions that were in them.

The Colonel however, was different. Edward didn't know what came over him. He still wore the usual glare of hatred towards him as the man watched him work but it just seemed more of a facade than a genuine expression. The man hadn't made one comment or scolding since Edward yelled at him earlier. Something was bothering the man, a haunting memory of a sort if the look in his eye was anything to go by, but Edward couldn't care less. The Colonel yelled at him and tormented him throughout his entire time at the rebel fortress. He didn't care that he had just witnessed his entire company be murdered before his eyes or the fact that he lost an arm or whatever painful memories that came with it. So in that sense, Edward was not going to care about him. He had more important things to do; like proving him wrong.

"How much longer do you have? You should really be getting some rest-" the Lieutenant said in a rather motherly tone.

"I'm almost… d-done," he stumbled as he felt his voice catch in his sticky and scratchy throat. He started to cough again and he bent over as the coughs wracked his body. The Colonel lunged forward and caught the vial from his grasp to prevent it from falling. He didn't want to restart it all over again and for that, Edward was actually grateful. His legs unfortunately started to shake. Edward gripped the bench and put all of his weight on it to prevent himself from falling to the ground. He couldn't give up now. He had to push through. He was almost done. But as panicked voices started to rise Edward felt something warm conjure up in his throat. His hand fumbled backwards and gripped the back of his helmet. He whipped the thing off and tossed it across the room. It crashed with something unknown to him as he went back towards his coughing fit. He needed air.

As the violent wracking of his chest slowed down and Edward could finally breathe once more, he pulled back and the only thing that caught his eyes was the color red. Voices gasped as Edward stared at the blood that coated his hand. His mouth tasted like metallic and he knew that he had coughed it up. This was bad. His entire body was shaking as he felt himself suddenly grow weak. The only thing even holding him up at that point was his grip on the table.

"Edward!" Ross exclaimed as she tried to lift him up. Unfortunately she touched his right shoulder and even with her gentle pressure a wave of pain was sent through him. Edward was so shocked by the sudden pain that he accidentally let go of the table and fell to the floor in a heap of white and gold.

"Edward we need to get you to the Rockbells immediately-"

"N-no," he gasped as he weakly tried to force himself off of the ground. "I need to finish this-"

"You have been pushing yourself too far. You should have stopped hours ago!" Ross scolded him. Edward forced himself to his feet and gripped the work bench again to hold himself up.

"I can't stop!" he said hoarsely back at her. "I can't! I need to make these seeds. We need to plant this crop-"

"We can go one more day without bread. You don't need to finish this tonight!"

"Why don't we help you? We could finish it," Brosh suggested as he was awakened by the struggle.

"No you wouldn't know what to-"

"Then tell us!" Ross argued with aggravation.

"It's almost done I just need to… to…," he staggered as he felt his voice hitch again. He coughed again and some more red came out. He looked down at it disgusted but tried his best to wipe his hands clean with a nearby towel.

"You're an idiot!" Ross exclaimed as she grabbed him by the waist and started to pull him away from the table. His shoulder jolted and she knew it but he guessed that she thought that hurting him a bit to get him away from the table was better than him pushing himself too far by just staying there. Edward fought her and pushed the soldier off of him which just sent him back to the ground. The Lieutenant stood over him with an angered expression on her face. "You are a stupid child, Edward. You mean to do good but you just don't see what it is doing to you!"

"I am not an idiot!" Edward retorted back at her, not even trying to get up off of the floor. He didn't feel like he could make it back to his feet again. "I am just trying to finish the job I was given. I am the only one that knows the procedure-"

"Then tell us what to do!" She scolded him. "You keep telling the Colonel to trust you but now you need to trust us!" Edward's mouth was open to argue but he found himself stunned as he stared into the woman's eyes. They were worried. He looked away as he felt an overwhelming feeling of shame grow over him. Ross kneeled down next to him and turned his face back so that he was looking at her again. "Edward… why don't you want us to finish it for you? It can't simply be pride of your job-"

"No," he mumbled almost inaudibly as he shook his head. His throat felt thick and it wasn't because of his coughing earlier.

"Then what is it?" she asked him gently, more gently than anyone talked to him before. Edward felt almost engulfed by her concern and as another jolt of pain rode through his shoulder he couldn't resist answering any of her questions. Edward looked down at his hands for a moment, contemplating how to answer but he felt an overwhelming feeling of shame and anger rise up in him. He was hopeless.

"I don't want you to know the procedure."

"Did you do something to it? Edward what did you do?" she asked very concerned for what he had created but he just shook his head.

"I… I didn't do anything. The seeds are perfectly enhanced genetic copies. The process though…. It's just…. So much like making me," he muttered. Ross and everyone else looked surprised. He knew they couldn't understand what he had meant by that and it took the Colonel's question to force him to give a better explanation why he was physically forcing his body and automail to the limits just to make some stupid seeds.

"Making a human clone is more complex but… the fundamentals are all there…. I just… I can't stand watching others make… me," Edward whispered.

"I bet that would look weird," the Sergeant muttered to himself. "Just seeing yourself in other people's hands. To see the failures..."

"Y-yeah, it's… horrible," he whispered unsure of whether he actually wanted to answer the man's absent minded statement or not. The Colonel shook his head and stood up from the chair he was weakly resting in. The man straightened out his jacket and took a few shaky steps forward as if something were still on his mind. The black eyes glanced slightly down towards where Edward was sitting and latched onto his gold ones, anger and fire gone from them, now replaced with regret. However for some reason Edward didn't think it was for him.

"Trust is a two way street, Edward," he said so calmly it almost scared him. For once the man used his name without a hint of disgust in it. "You can act like a kid and pretend you can do this all by yourself, or you can act like an adult and a true soldier and let us help you. Your choice. However, in your current situation I would definitely choose the latter." Edward narrowed his eyes at him in an attempt to find the trick or the insult but for once he found none. Edward didn't know what he had said to the man to make him so different but he was actually frightened with the new man's demeanor. He looked down at his shoulder and noticed that a thin layer of red was circling out on his armor from his port as well. He needed to get it off. He wouldn't be able to last much longer like this. With a huff of defeat he nodded his head.

"Fine… fine," Edward growled as he moved to stand up. He felt arms wrap around him to lift him up on his feet. He groaned as his shoulder was aggravated but he tried to force himself to keep quiet. His pride was already trashed for that day.

"Over here," he muttered as they lead him back to the table. Edward pointed to some of the vials and medium trays. "We need to pour these transformed cells on these trays. Only make a thin layer on each. Don't need too much… only… 1000 micro liters. You know how to work the pipettes right?" He asked them questionably. The Lieutenant and Sergeant looked completely lost but the Colonel nodded his head silently. Edward was surprised. He thought the man would have been completely useless in a lab setting.

"Is that it?" the Colonel asked him. Edward shook his head.

"No. you need to self pollinate the crop so that they could produce more original seeds. They need to be collected and stored."

"Why would we need to do that if you are making seeds already?" Brosh asked him. Edward sighed tiredly.

"You can't clone a clone. It doesn't work. You need DNA from an original source to prevent mutations. For example, you can clone the Colonel here because he's an original human… but… you can't clone me cause I am not."

"Wait… so you are saying that-"

"You need to keep an original source of DNA to make clones. If you try creating a new… hate using this word… specimen from something that is already copied there will be fatal mutations and the specimen will not survive," Edward finished the thought for the Colonel. The man seeme to lite up suddenly as if his mind was kicking into overdrive. All previous bothersome thoughts seemed to be chased out of him as Edward gave him this information. The only thing that Edward got from the man was a mumble of words one of which was caught as 'interesting'.

Edward, between coughing fits and shoulder pains, explained the basis of self pollinating the plants mendel style. The Sergeant was sent to work immediately by the Colonel even though the bags under his eyes just wanted more sleep and the Lieutenant was assigned to help him back to the garage where the Rockbells have been taking care of him for so long. She gently took a hold of his left elbow and wrapped her arm around his waist for support. As she did this he realised just how much his legs didn't want to work anymore. The rebels were right, he was pushing himself too hard.

"Come on sir, we need to get you back," she told him as he tiredly grabbed his helmet from the table. He groaned tiredly in response as they started to take slow steps towards.

"Clone," the Colonel called out to him as they made it to the door. Edward glanced back at the man to see him standing at the lab bench with the pipette in his hand ready to get to work on the seeds. Though with their distance he could still feel the black eyes study him. "Don't think that I am not going to bring this up tomorrow. My list of questions is just growing," he said sternly, a light but not killing glare on his face. Edward smirked lightly through the mask of his helmet.

"If you didn't I would expect there to be something wrong with you." The Colonel returned the mocking grin in sport of the aggressive banter and returned silently to his work. The Lieutenant tugged him along and Edward slowly made his way back to his bed for some well needed rest. Unfortunately, Winry Rockbell was not enthused with the state of his return.


	13. The Heir

_Authour's Note: Alright back on schedule now with a regular update! From here on out it should be updated normally. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please review!_

 _ **A Different Type of Soldier**_

Chapter 13

The Heir

Roy twirled his pen with his fingers as he sat at his desk. His brows were furrowed in hard concentration as he had been thinking for hours and only coming up with one awful answer. He really didn't want it to be true. It couldn't be, but he could have found no other explanation. He growled as he bit the end of the pen which still had marks from where he had previously muddled over hard thought problems. It has been a week since he had last spoken to the clone and what he said to him last was ingrained into his mind. He needed to talk to him again.

The door of his office opened up and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked in, her demeanor plain as normal, as if she was created like a blank slate. Roy pushed that thought out of his head and just bit his pen harder.

"Did he wake up yet?" he groaned, needing the answers he desperately desired. Riza shook her head quietly.

"No. The Rockbells say it is like he is in a trance. His body is doing fine, all of his vitals are good. He just isn't waking up," she elaborated. "They have him hooked up to an IV to keep him going."

"Damn it. A whole week. Who knew he would have collapsed for so long?" Roy muttered as he remembered the ragged state the clone was in when he had left the green houses. His arm was overworked. It looked bad, but it wasn't anything too serious with the care of the Rockbells. However, when the Captain went to sleep that evening he didn't wake up and he showed no sign that he was going to. "How is his arm?" Roy asked quickly, his mind rapidly trying to grasp the state of the clone.

"It's… almost completely healed. Almost like it has been years since the port was attached. He's healing so fast, sir," she told him simply. Roy growled as he slouched down in his chair. There was a slight air of silence and he noticed the invisible smirk rise on Hawkeye's face. "You almost sound worried for him, Colonel."

"Worried? I am not worried, confused is more like it!" Roy retorted as he dragged his feet off his desk and planted them firmly on the ground. "How can he heal so fast? What's going on? This isn't just a regular clone, there is something about him that's just too-"

"Human?" she filled in for him as he became lost for words. Her face was firm but her eyes looked slightly hurt and Roy closed his eyes, aggravation slowly seeping out of him, turning into regret.

"I guess," he mumbled, not able to voice an actual apology. "He just…. Reminds me so much of…. Him."

"You can say his name you know," she said softly. Roy shook his head and closed his eyes tiredly.

"I don't think I can." he sucked in a huge breath and let it out suddenly feeling a soft hand on his shoulder to calm him down and set his mind on track. Right, he was thinking about the clone and his awful answer to the council's question. Who was the Captain's genetic father?

"The Clone said something to me the other day in the green houses, how it was impossible to copy DNA from a clone and produce viable specimen-"

"Yes?"

"So who made him?" Roy asked outloud. "Everyone in the council meeting a few months ago told me that he resembles the emperor and Van Hohenheim way too much so he has to be from one of them. He is the spitting image."

"But which one?" Hawkeye inquired, probably having already found the answer that had slapped Roy in the face too many times to ignore.

"If what he says is true… then the only person he could be from is…" Roy started but his mouth refused to say it. There was no possible way that the clone was the DNA duplicate of Van Hohenheim. Roy couldn't accept it yet, everyone knew that the emperor was a clone. Not just a clone, but the clone, the very first one. His creation was what started this whole mess. It was what started the clone wars. It was what killed- Roy shook his head sparing him the pain of remembering him. He was thinking about the clone not…. _Him._

"If the clone really is from Hohenheim himself and not the emperor, that means that there is a chance he is still alive. The clone is fairly young, only bridging 8 years. For them to know that he would actually survive and work with no side effects they would have at least had to wait till he was ten. They would have kept the original source of DNA until then-"

"They could have copied it and stored it. That is what they do with every other originator-"

"Not from someone like Hohenheim. If something were to happen to it… They would be back at square one," Roy said. He took in deep breath as he braced himself for what he was going to say. It was a real shock to him having figured it out but there was a slight glimmer of hope in the slim possibility. "If," he breathed heavily, "If this is real, if the clone really is from Hohenheim that means he is still alive… and Edward might know where he is-"

"If he knew, why didn't he say anything about it?" Hawkeye pushed, challenging Roy like he knew she would. Though they were simple questions they got his mind thinking, working on a path to the answers.

"He might not know that he knows. He might not even know he was his originator. If he learned how to clone from just simply glancing at the work they were doing on him-which i highly doubt by the way, just for the record- he might have learned some other things about their ship, that might lead us to him."

"Should I call the General to tell him what you found?"

"Yes. Yes that would be good," Roy muttered resting his chin on his hands. "The instant he wakes up however, I need to run some tests. We need to get answers."

…

Edward yawned tiredly as he opened his eyes. The world was blurry around him and groaned as he tried to rub the clouds from his eyes. A light tug on his arm made him halt and he confusedly tried to see what it was. He lifted his arm up and blinked his eyes a couple times as he blearily looked at what was on his arm. It was an IV. He shivered wanting desperately to reach up and rip it out but his mind prevented him from doing anything stupid. What had happened? He groggily sat up and let out another yawn, blinking tiredly. Aside from being rather tired he felt fine, better than he had in the months he was stuck in that place. This originally wasn't odd to him, maybe he just had a good rest but then he remembered what state he was in before he went to sleep. He was hurting, his automail port was bloody, strained, and he could barely even stand up. How was he feeling that good? He looked down at his shoulder, his finger dazedly dancing over where the bandages should be. They weren't there. His arm, aside from being metal now, looked fine. His shoulder wasn't sweltering red anymore and it didn't hurt. He must have been dreaming. What type of medication did the rebels have him on? He stood up, feeling very lopsided without his arm and hobbled over to where the IV bag was hanging on the hook. He rubbed his eyes again and tried to read it, but couldn't make anything out. It wasn't like he could really understand it anyways. He growled at himself as he turned to see the workshop as empty. No one was there, not even his guards.

"Hey!" he called out as if someone might be there to hear him. "Hey where is everyone?" Hearing no answer he grumbled and grabbed a hold of his IV stand and shuffled over towards the door. He reached for the button but paused. Remembering the Colonel's threat about being shot on site nearly made him retreat. If he walked out, they could have thought he was trying to escape. Where were his guards? Surely with how strong the man felt against him he would have never left him alone by himself. Where was the lieutenant? The sergeant? Just as he made the choice to open the door, the panel beeped and it swung open. Edward yelped slightly as an officer was standing on the other side of it, not even an inch from him. He stumble back in shock and easily found his ass on the floor, quite more sore than it was previously. The woman looked unamused.

"Good morning, Captain," the blond haired woman said flatly, her voice not betraying anything. "I am Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. I work under the Colonel. I will be doing a light evaluation and brief today."

"An evaluation, for what?" Edward watched her as she entered the room. She set a small stack of papers on the workbench and pulled up two chairs, one for him. He stood up awkwardly and cautiously followed her offer to the seat. He was very confused and he didn't feel like he trusted her too much. She looked too familiar.

"I don't want to beat around the bush and I think after everything you have been through you are able to handle this," she started slowly. There was a short pause as if she was waiting for him to catch up and hold onto what she was saying but Edward didn't know if he could. He looked around the room, waiting for anyone else to enter but there was no one. Hawkeye, taking his confused pause as an answer continued. "You have been in a sleep spell for over two weeks after you fell unconscious from straining your new automail arm too much in the green houses. During this time you managed to become a medical oddity as your arm healed to the state it would be in a year after its installment. The Generals demand all possible information you know about this. We are also going to send some of your blood into the labs to be tested."

"Wh-what?" Edward exclaimed as he heard what she said. It was all too much, too fast. He had been asleep for two weeks? He felt like he had only slept for a day. It couldn't have been that long. His eyes fluttered down to his port. It looked fine, but that was the problem. It was too fine. "I-It can't be me. I… I can't do that. It has to be the medicine or something-"

"It isn't the medicine. We have nothing that is able to do this," she stated. Edward frowned and his hand reached up defensively to cover his port as if that would protect him from her orders. There was no way that this was possible.

"I-I-"

"I wanted to ask you questions about your creation. Maybe this will get us the answers we need. We would like to know exactly how they made you. If the Empire experiments in cloning we want to know…. Exactly what we have," she finished seemingly regretfully.

"Oh," he mumbled hearing her say he was practically a piece of supply. "Well all of the information you would need is on my back."

"None of us know how to decode these. We have been trying for years," she answered. "However, I heard that you know how, is that correct?"

"Yeah, it wasn't that difficult once you found the pattern-"

"Would you be able to decode it for us, tell us how you were made?"

"Why do you want it so bad? It isn't anything important, trust me. Though I am an experimental clone it arguably made me weaker than regular clones," Edward admitted to her. "I have been over my development plans hundreds of times already. I even duplicated some of their processes to create the seeds. It said nothing about… this. I even compared mine to a normal processed clone and the creation of the immune system are virtually the same. Same post development injections and everything."

"We still need those plans, Edward," she said stiffly. Edward sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"What are you going to do with them?" He asked her softly. "You aren't… you aren't going to make anyone right?" The Lieutenant looked a little taken back by what he said. Edward glanced at the door before he looked down to the ground. "I know I don't have an opinion, I never really did, but please don't make anyone from these plans," he asked them quietly. "I… I don't want anyone else to go through what I had to. It was painful, it was isolated, no one cared about what happened... You might not see us as full humans but I still don't think anyone should be born alone like that." A hand rested on his shoulder and Edward looked up. The Lieutenant's face was still stern however her eyes were softer than they were before. When he looked into them he could see that she actually understood. There was a breath of silence as she thought about what she was going to say, and then answered.

"At least with me, Sir, you are human. The Colonel is having a slower time coming to that conclusion but he will get there, eventually. Your plans are safe with me. I am the rebel's only clone expert here," she said. Edward's eyes widened in shock as he stared at her. She was the first person there to openly say that to him, and possibly the last he expected. There was a light lift in his chest that he hadn't felt for the longest time, as if there was hope, as if he was safe. However in an instant her eyes turned cold and business like and they were back to where they were a moment before. She pulled out her clipboard and handed it to him. He fumbled with it as it was shoved into his only hand.

"Sir, the plans if you will."

…

Edward sat on a metal table in nothing but his shorts. He was biting his lip as he tried not to think of the cold white room he was sitting in. If he did he wouldn't be able to handle it. Someone held tracer paper to his back and started to make an exact copy of his burns there. He wasn't comfortable to say the least. This was his own personal information, everything about himself, being taken down and recorded like data on a page. Once down, the rebels would have everything they needed to make a clone of their own. He had to trust them, remembering what the Colonel had told him back in the greenhouses. He had to trust them, but it seemed harder by the second the more of his back they copied.

Edward closed his eyes and took in a deep breath trying to calm his nerves. The doctor pulled away the paper and handed it to him. He looked to see the intricate markings perfectly translated onto the paper.

"Is that good enough for you?" the man asked as if he was actually wondering his feeble opinion. He just quietly nodded his head and the page was withdrawn from his grasp to be folded and analysed. Having nothing else to hold onto, his mismatched hands fell down and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. He didn't want to be there anymore.

"It is only a little longer," Lieutenant Hawkeye told him. He glanced up and saw her standing in the doorway, holding onto a clipboard that had a checklist of information they needed to extract from him. Edward felt like he was being torn apart and inspected, critiqued, analyzed. To put it plainly he felt like he was a lab rat. It was far too similar to the way that the Empire had treated him, looked at him, when he had first come out of his growing pod. He closed his eyes again not wanting to remember those horribly cold golden eyes looking down at him. He couldn't think about that.

There was a sudden sound of a cart being pushed into the room, it's squeaky wheel spinning around uselessly. A chipper voice of yet another doctor sounded out.

"I am Dr. Tucker. I work under General Clemin. Are you ready for your examination?" Edward glared down at the floor, not wanting to look into the calm green eyes of the new doctor.

"It's not like I have a choice," he muttered however the doctor seemed to ignore him as he rooted through his cart. He noticed the Lieutenant mark something else off on her list before exiting the room as if someone had summoned her. A sudden sense of loneliness came back to him and he found himself biting his lip again nervously. Something cold slid on his chest and he looked down to see the doctor listening to his heart and lungs carefully to get his heart rate. He hated the cold metal. He just wanted to leave and get out of there, but he had to see it through till the end. Who knew what the Colonel would to do him if he tried to run.

"Deep breath," the doctor ordered him softly and Edward followed not only because he had to but because he also hoped to calm his nerves which were ricocheting through his body. The doctor smiled seeming to notice how nervous he was and tried to bring up small talk to help. "I had a daughter you know. She used to hate going to medical check ups too. She would only let me do them because I was her father. It annoyed the other doctors so much."

"Had?" he mumbled under his breath as he heard the man slip in his language.

"Yes, well. Unfortunately she died from asthma. The desert air wasn't good for her," the man said sadly.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," Edward said quickly as he saw the man's change in demeanor. The doctor waved him off.

"It's alright. You didn't know." The doctor had him stand up and do more breathing excersizes to listen to his lungs before he ordered him to sit back down. Edward almost flinched as his skin touched the metal table again. However, against his fear he forced himself to stay seated as the man buzzed around him.

"Your heart rate looks good," the doctor smiled as he pulled the stethoscope off from around his neck. "We have a few more things to go through before we need to take you over to X-ray and imaging. I am going to need to take some blood-" And it was then that Edward saw the huge needle in his hand.

…..

Roy sighed as he waited in the medical clinic for their clone to finish all of his testing and procedures. It seemed to be taking all day and yet as Hawkeye had informed them they weren't even halfway complete. She had a checklist going and was on top of everything the clone had to do and then everything that they had to look over. Roy was already reading the notes that the clone had written up that morning about his procedure. It seemed to be word for word dialogue from a science journal. How was all of that information encoded into his skin, Roy would never begin to know. Riza had told him that Edward seemed rather worried about the information getting used. It was the same fear that stemmed from not wanting them to do the procedure of the seeds. With as much as the clone preached he was human it seemed even he didn't want anymore of them being created. Roy heard him say that the procedure was terrible however he would have to figure out the details when he read deeper into the papers. So far, the procedure looked normal; acquire samples of DNA, replace or enhance genes, etc. He didn't see anything different in it than what was simply done in their seed experiment, which had solved the problem of their famine ten fold. All of the crop was growing miraculously fast and they not only had enough to replenish their own stores but to also hand out to feed the nearby civilian towns and to trade for other supplies. From one experiment the clone was bringing life to the entire planet. Roy however wouldn't admit that to him. After all it was just during the experiment that he had claimed that clones could only destroy. He took an ever so slight glance at Riza and shook his head. He would admit silently to himself that the clone had proved him wrong that time. Out loud might have been too much for his pride to handle.

Suddenly there was a huge crash in the examination room behind them. Yells and screams picked up and several other doctors and nurses were called into the room. Roy quickly found himself rising to his feet and running into the room. His hand reaching behind him defensively to grab his blaster. He was stupid, stupid to think that the clone wouldn't try anything in the medical ward. Why didn't he put guards on him in there? However as he pulled the blaster out of its holster and barged in, the only thing he saw was several doctors restraining a bucking clone on the metal table. The captain was fighting all of them at once, not wanting to stay put. He saw that the doctor who had originally been in there had a huge black eye that he was cradling in the corner. Nurses were running about giving orders to hold him down as one of them prepped a needle for blood work. Edward screamed as he tried to kick the nurse away from him but another person jumped on his legs to hold him still.

"Get away! Please!" he begged. His eyes were wide and Roy saw that they were tearing up. The clone was terrified. He put his blaster back into his holster and went over to the table. He could hear the clones ragged breaths as he tried to fight the nurses off of him.

"Edward," he said stiffly just not to be heard as the clone punched yet another doctor in the face and sent them reeling backwards. The captain tried to crawl off the table but they still had a hold of his legs. Roy quickly took one of the fallen nurses places and helped pin down the hard metal arm to the examination table.

"Edward!" he exclaimed louder, needing to grab the clone's attention. Golden eyes snapped to him and caught Roy cold, dead cold. He was scared. The clone's eyes were filled with so much fear that Roy even felt himself slightly frightened by it. "Edward it is just a needle-"

"I-I-" the kid's wet voice stuttered but he suddenly gasped as the nurse managed to plunge the needle into one of his veins. The clone screamed as it was in him and tried even harder to fight to get it out. Roy didn't know what was wrong with him. He never had a problem with his IV when he was in the Rockbell's care, but then he realised, the clone was never away when it was actually put in. He wondered what hell they would have faced if he were.

"Get it out, get it out, GET IT OUT!" the clone screamed and he nearly threw Roy off of him but he held firm to the metal arm, not wanting it to rip the needle out of his other. They needed a decent amount of blood from the kid. They needed it to stay in.

"Don't look at it!" Roy ordered him harshly but the kid wasn't looking. One of the other nurses helped him hold down his automail and he used his one hand to roughly turn the clone's head towards him. Wide golden eyes pierced his black ones and Roy glared into them, needing the clone to calm down. "Do not look at it," he commanded him again. "Just don't look at it."

"I-I can't. I can't-"

"Yes you can! Just don't look at it. Keep your eyes on me," he commanded him as he himself glanced over towards the clone's arms. They had a couple tubes done. They needed a bit more. He returned to the frightened golden eyes and told him to focus on him again. The clone's ragged breathing seemed to calm ever so slightly as he saw the clone try and control it as the nurses buzzed around him. Roy felt the clone relax if only a tiny bit and he loosened up ever so slightly on him. The nurses filled the last tube up and quickly pulled the needle out and replaced it with a cotton swab to bandage it up. After a few more seconds of cleaning him up the nurses quickly retreated out of range of the clone's arms and Roy let go.

Edward shot up off of the table and in his haste nearly fell off of it. Roy caught him before he could smack his face off of the ground and set him back up on it. The clone however wouldn't let go of his jacket. His knuckles were white against his sleeve as the clone held onto him as if for dear life, his body rigid. Roy was going to yell at him to let him go but froze when he saw the clone's back shudder suddenly as he began to cry. The captain was breaking down in front of him like a little child. Roy felt his whole being stiffen as he didn't know what to do. This was supposed to be a hardened clone from the Empire not some little kid. Yet, as Roy had to keep reminding himself, he was only eight. Though practically an adult in physiology, there was something that genetics and programming couldn't take away; fear. Roy wanted in all his might just to walk away and leave the clone there to comfort himself. He didn't want to give him the luxury. Yet he found his hand slowly resting on the clone's back patting it slowly and awkwardly in his own attempt to calm him despite himself.

"Uh, calm down," he muttered unknowingly. The clone stayed silent where Roy had expected one of his many rude retorts or gestures and just slowly, became to come to. Roy glanced up and saw the Lieutenant standing in the door way. He glared at her for lingering and she left casually, not without an obvious slim smile in her eyes. Edward's breathing eventually began to even out and he quickly wiped his eyes hoping that the Colonel wouldn't see him in that state longer than was necessary. Roy hated to compare him to a clone but if there had to be one similarity it was their pride.

"Wh-why do I have to do this all of a sudden?" the clone asked weakly, barely anything above a whisper. If Roy wasn't so close to him he wouldn't have heard him. "Why do you need my blood? I-I gave you my plans. They should tell you everything. Why do I need to get experimented on?"

"Your plans don't tell us everything. We aren't experimenting on you, just pulling tests. We need to find who your originator is," Roy stated flatly, not letting any sign slip in his voice. Golden eyes looked up at him, in shock as if he never even thought about doing that before. His brows furrowed as if in concentration and Roy thought he saw a shudder go through him. The clone quickly shook his head.

"No. Don't-"

"You are a clone. You don't have a choice in the matter," Roy retorted cutting him off from trying to stop the procedures. He knew it was harsh but he had already been soft on him enough for that day. He wasn't going to cradle him anymore.

"Why are you trying to find that bastard?" the clone cried suddenly as if it was all built up. Roy could tell that he was still worked up over his fight with the doctors but he was rather shocked to hear him say what he was. "He doesn't give a care about me or my brother. He just makes us and then throws us in the garbage if we can't finish training. The only thing he ever brings is pain and needles."

"You mean you met Van Hohenheim?" Roy gaped with his mouth open. He didn't think that clones met their originators at all. They were simply DNA donors and weren't part of the procedure. Usually, as Roy had found out, the originators were drained for all of their potential, quite literally. Edward looked up at him, his eyes still red from when he was crying but his eyes looked utterly confused in his statement.

"N-no," he argued. "The Supreme Leader. He's the… He's the one who did the experiments. He…," the clone started but then a shiver rocked down his spine as he clamped his mouth shut. His eyes closed as he tried to block out a specific memory that Roy knew he probably never wanted to dive into. Roy realised that he must have thought that the Emperor was his father because he was there during the procedure. He didn't think that the emperor would show up to anything as simple as a cloning experiment unless there was something exemplary about it. His eyes glanced down at Edward and studied him. Why was the Supreme Leader so involved with Edward's creation and training? Though they did resemble each other, Roy knew with the best of his knowledge that the Emperor couldn't be the Captain's father. It just couldn't work that way. However, as much as his conscious was yelling at him to explain to Edward why they were testing him, his mouth stayed shut. There was a long moment of silence before the Captain looked up at him again.

"This never happened," Edward growled lightly under his breath as his old self seemed to be coming back. The clone gave him a slight push as if trying to forget that he ever cried, in front of him no less. Roy shook his head and his eyes quickly hardened back to their old self. He took a step back from the examination table and straightened his jacket.

"Damn right it didn't," he snapped. He turned to leave and made it to the door, not without calling out over his shoulder. "You still have a lot more tests to go, Edward. I don't want to have to come in here again." With that he slammed the door of the examination room shut behind him and let out a huge aggravated breath. His eyes scanned the medical room in front of him to see several nurses cradling their bruises and others black eyes. Unfortunately his eyes landed on Hawkeye who had a knowing look planted on her face. He glared at her.

"Shut up," he ordered but the gleam only seemed to brighten.

"I didn't say anything sir."


	14. Join the Ranks

_Authour's Note: Okay so I don't know why I am writing so much for this. But I have just been thinking nonstop about it. So here is yet again another chapter. I believe this is my third one this week so I need to just step back for a little bit. But Please Review anyways! And thank you all for following! I will write the next chapter because I honestly can't stop thinking about it!_

 _ **A Different Type of Soldier**_

Chapter 14

Join the Ranks

"See General Edison, _this_ is how you fix a food shortage problem," General Grumman hummed tauntingly as he motioned to the jellied toast he was currently munching on. Roy rolled his eyes as he walked into the office with his brief tucked under his arm. Edison was glaring daggers at him however Grumman was stating something that was nonetheless true. Edward, who was now under Roy's command, did fix the problem Edison was charged with. The clone that Edison wanted to kill was proving quite handy in Gruman's eyes. Their disagreement along with the other Generals was spouting some high tension amongst the rebels. Grumman turned towards Roy, finishing the last bite of his morning toast. His eyes went from joyful to hardened in an instant as he was cracking down to business. What a chaotic man.

"You ran the tests on the clone what was the outcome?" Grumman asked him as he motioned for Roy to take a seat across his desk. Roy sat cautiously, not wanting to seem lax in the council's presence.

"We took blood and his cell count is perfectly normal for a human. I ran through his development procedure three times along with Lieutenant Hawkeye and have found nothing that would signal anything as to why he would heal so fast. It was… inconclusive," Roy admitted, much to the General's disappointment.

"How do you know he isn't lying? He could have just written the wrong plans down to fool us. There has to be a reason why he can heal so fast. If this is what clones can do now we are in out of our league! We need to know how to shut them down!" Edison argued, not wanting to accept the clone's word as true.

"He has nothing to gain from lying-" Roy started but even General Grumman lifted his finger to stop him for a moment.

"I don't want to be sceptical but rather a voice of reason. Lieutenant Hawkeye did mention that the Captain was rather reluctant to give his cloning information. Why?" the old man questioned him. Roy frowned as he thought back at it. Maybe the clone did have reason to deceive them. It was rather childish and was nothing for the empire's sake but rather his own fears.

"Captain ED-0001 is…. Worried that we might try to use his plans to start cloning. He doesn't want anyone to go through what he did because he said it was inhumane. I thought at first he was overreacting but reading through his development there are some procedures that hold excruciating amounts of pain and if not done right could kill the newly made clone. It is understandable now why he doesn't want to share them," he answered.

"And couldn't he have even made that up in his procedures?" Clemin argued. "I don't like having to just count on his word. We need proof-"

"None of us are able to decode these patterns ourselves. The clone is the only one-"

"But what if he were to decode a pattern we already know?" Grumman hummed as he scratched his beard lightly. All of the Generals looked at him quizically as they didn't know what he was getting at but Roy knew instantly. It had to do with his own Lieutenant.

"No. He is not doing that-" Roy started to argue, not wanting to think of how the Captain would have to get the plans off of her back.

"And yet we know the basics of the procedure, her more than the rest of us. If he can decode it correctly then we know we can have faith in his own," Grumman told him.

"But General-"

"For the sake of their peace of mind," Grumman said motioning to Edison in particular, "Just do it." roy felt his face heat up as he trie to choke down his frustration. He didn't want the imperial clone getting anywhere near his lieutenant, especially to get that information. He knew that Hawkeye would agree to the plan for the sole purpose that she would be ordered to, but Roy still didn't like it. However, in the face of the Generals, he choked own his frustration and nodded his head.

"Yess sir." Grumman gave him an understanding nod to his anger but made him continue on with his report. He sighed as he picked up his stack of papers and read them off again. All of the Generals woul be given a copy of the brief however he was presenting it so that they could better understand it. "WE ran a DNA analysis on the blood we collected, pulling the altered genes described in the clone's development plans it is an exact copy to Van Hohenheim's DNA that we have on file. ED-0001 is a clone of the jedi master-"

"But what about the Emperor-"

"As informed to us by the Captain as well as in his plans, you can't clone a clone. You need original source of DNA. It is physically impossible for him to have come from the Emperor," Roy explained, cutting Edison off of his rant. "We have extracted extra blood incase we need to run some more tests but as far as we can tell… that is it. He is Van Hohenheim's clone." The generals sat back in awe as they absorbed this information. They had been playing with the idea that the Jedi master was alive but it was never really considered a reality, simply a dream. But now with this new clone, there was hope that the Imperials had simply imprisoned their leader and was holding him. Where? They didn't have the slightest idea but maybe the clone would know. Grumman smiled and laced his fingers together, resting his chin easily on top of them. He had probably been thinking of a plan for the longest time and now he could execute it.

"Colonel Mustang I think it is about time you incorporate the clone fully into your troops. If we are going to find Hohenheim we will need him working with us and alongside us. Arrange him in his own barracks, allow him to eat in the cafeteria all under guard of course. Teach him about the history of the Alliance so he could become more acquainted with how we run things. He has shown so far that he could help us and if we keep wanting him to we are going to have to give him more livable conditions. I think he has stayed in the Rockbell's garage for long enough."

"Grumman you can't possibly think that the other men would accept this!" General Raven pointed out. "When they see him in his armor they will think they were under attack!"

"The guards aren't for our safety as much as they are for the Captain's, General," he retorted, his eyes cold and still locked on Edison. The man was frigid in anger and Roy knew that Edison had a lot more on his mind than he was letting on. Roy didn't like the air around the man but he had to agree with General Raven; the troops were not ready to accept a clone. He opened his mouth to retort but General Grumman clapped his hands together, ending the discussion there.

"Very well. I can say that this clone turned out to be more intriguing than I had first expected but that just lifts my hopes higher for the future. Until next time, Generals," the man said excitedly as they all stood up from their chairs. The higher ranking officers were still bickering underneath their breath to each other as they exited the office area. Roy didn't like their attitude but his wasn't much different. He did not want the Captain amongst his men. He didn't want them talking to him at all. The only person he knew that would be excited to see the clone was Fuery other than that, the Captain was in for a rude awakening. As he was in thought he felt a hand rest on his shoulder and he looked up to see the General looking down on him as if he had more to say.

"Colonel, I know it is going to be difficult, especially for you, but if we are going to make the clone work, we need to let him work amongst the men. We need to take it in strides," he said. "Don't make an enemy of yourself."

"No sir, I won't," Roy gritted.

…..

Edward shivered as the cold water of the shower hit his back. It was freezing yet he seemed to forget what a hot shower felt like. It had been a long time since he was on Resembool, nearly half a year, yet he still found himself missing the simple things he left behind. He felt his heart freeze to the temperature of the water he was under as he thought about all of the white helmets he had left behind; his entire company.

"Sir, are you almost done?" he heard Sergeant Brosh ask from the doorway. Edward was slapped back into reality as he heard the man's voice and he grumbled to himself. They couldn't even let him take a shower in privacy. 24/7 guard meant everywhere. If they were any more tight he would have expected them to be under the water with him. He sighed as he pulled the curtain back just enough to poke his head out.

"Give me a break I just got in," he growled at him. The Sergeant held up his hands defensively as he turned his back to him once more. Edward closed the curtain again and picked up his washcloth. It felt like sandpaper against his skin but it wasn't like they would spend money on a clone. The soap he used was obviously also last resort as it had sand still stuck to it probably from being stored at the bottom of a container. He gritted his teeth as he felt it rub his skin near raw. He thought he would have gotten used to it, living like this, but he didn't think he ever would. He felt another shudder wrack his body as his teeth started to chatter in the cold. This was absurd.

"Don't you have any bloody warm water here?" his shivering voice called out tauntingly though he knew what the answer would have been. But that wasn't what he heard in reply.

"Considering we are in a desert you should be grateful for having cold of anything," he heard the slimy voice of the Colonel come right behind him. He let out a yelp as he dropped the soap and pulled the curtain back to look at the guy standing in front of him.

"Get out of here you creepy pervert!" Edward shouted as he threw his washcloth at the man. It hit hit his face with a wet thwap and the man looked more annoyed than pissed off. He peeled it off his face and exchanged it for a towel of equivalent softness. Edward took it confused but Mustang was already elaborating on what he wanted.

"Get dressed, full armor, it is almost lunch time and you can't miss it-"

"Don't I get lunch here? Why do I need full armor?" Edward interrogated as he turned the water off and quickly wrapped the towel around his waist. The Colonel rolled his eyes as he turned back towards the door, trusting in full that the Captain would follow. Like a little puppy, he did.

"The Generals think it time that you get incorporated into the unit. You are going to get new quarters today and are going to be eating in the dining hall from now on-"

"So I get to get out of here?" Edward asked his hopes lifting ever so slightly but the Colonel's black eyes sent a cold and unrelenting glare over his shoulder which made him quickly shut up.

"You will still be kept under guard. There will be cameras everywhere. And aside from the dining hall and your quarters the only room you will see are the four walls of a study room. You are going to learn how to be a rebel, and trust me," the man breathed, "there is a lot you need to learn." Edward felt a grin etch its way across his face as he took the man's challenge full on.

"Who ever said I wasn't one?" he retorted making the Colonel smirk at his statement. They were facing off for a battle and neither one of them wanted to step down.

"We will see. Now get dressed. You got a lot to do."

….

Edward quickly braided his hair as he sat on the stool at one of Winry's work benches. He was fully armored aside from his golden striped helmet which rested on the table. All of his measly belongings were packed up for the move and he made sure to clean up behind him. The rickety cot he had been sleeping on for all of this time was packed up and stowed away where it belonged and he even swept the floor of the entire workshop. He had been keeping up on the janitorial work since he was there simply because it was the only thing he could do. With the long hours of nothing he needed to preoccupy his time with something and that something was a broom and dustpan. It also helped with his automail coordination at the beginning of his physical therapy so the Rockbells were happy to see him help out. Now, however, Winry was a little upset to see him go, more for his automail than his actual being.

"Once a week, check up on it. I want to make sure that the water doesn't rust it from your showers nor the sand if you go outside. Make sure to clean it every night with the kit I gave you. It fits well enough in your belt?" she asked worried. She had given him a small automail cleaning kit that fit in the medical kit attached to his utility belt on his armor. He was glad it was small enough for that because he knew that even if it was any larger the woman would still want to see him carry it around everywhere.

"Yes," he sighed as he pulled up his braid and slid his helmet on over his head. He caught her eyes widen slightly as he was yet again in full armor and she looked away. He knew even his guards couldn't accept the transition when he put his armor on but it never changed who wore it. His attention darted to the floor, slightly ashamed.

"Captain, we should be going," Lieutenant Ross said along with a nod from the Sergeant. "If the Colonel's subordinates don't eat he doesn't either. That's a rule he lives by. But I don't think he will be light on you if you make him starve."

"That's a rule every commander should live by," Edward commented as he stood up from the bench and walked towards the door. "Yet you still find soldiers going hungry while officers are full." With a wave to the Rockbells and another thanks for his arm. The lieutenant lead him out into the base with the Sergeant pulling the end. Edward had a nerve of excitement go through him. He really couldn't wait to see the rest of the base. He wanted to get out of that darn garage for the longest time. He needed fresh air. Yet, there was still an air of anxiety that fluttered through him. He didn't know what to expect in the new parts of the base but if the soldiers had any similar views on clones that the Colonel did, he was not ready for it. They wound their way farther into the center of the base. Heads of soldiers turned to watch him pass without a word. Death stares were not in shortage but Edward found himself trying to stand a little taller to battle them off. Unfortunately that did nothing to make him feel more and more like an ugly duckling in a crowd of wild geese.

They turned a corner and they entered a large room filled with tables and chairs. Edward could hear the large amounts of chatter from the hallway and was not surprised at the amount of people inside. They were all seated at their own tables, talking to fellow soldiers or co workers like they had known each other for the longest time. It reminded Edward of the mess hall at his old outpost only except for blazing white armor and familiar faces all he saw were strangers in blue. He faltered only a little bit in the door way as they all caught sight of him. The conversations hushed down as heads turned to see the clone trooper walk in. The death stared bloomed there too. Edward tried to swallow the lump in his throat as the Sergeant gave him and encouraging shove forwards towards the line where the food was being served. He stumbled forward but as whispers started to pick up again he found his footing and followed, trying to look tall like before but feeling like he was failing. Lieutenant Ross handed him a tray and he looked up to see a large scowl glaring down at him. He felt the lump in his throat become a rock.

"Tray," the man ordered. Edward shakily handed it to him and he felt it ripped out of his hands. As the Lieutenant was pleasantly asking for the food he want it looked like he didn't have a choice. The man dug the scoop into a plot off peas and came up with it. He overturned it just short of his tray and the peas dropped back into the container, not even touching his plate. Edward frowned as he saw the man pass it onto the next server. "There you go, a nice serving of vegetables. All the vitamins and minderals a clone needs."

"Th-thanks," Edward whispered, his eyes lingering on the forgotten vegetables. All of his will urged him to argue with the man but he didn't have the energy. With all of the eyes on him he doubted that it would end very well in his favor anyways. The next server repeated the process with the fruits and the next one with the grains. Only when his tray came to the entrancing smell of pulled pork did he even get a greeting.

"Hey, would you like pulled pork or the pasta?" he heard the large red headed man ask him. His red hair reminded him of RD-9999 for a moment and a small smile fluttered to his face before he shook it off. Red was dead along with everyone else. This was yet another stranger he didn't know.

"Nothing if you are just going to leave the tray empty," Edward muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. The man smirked at his answer and started the process of serving him.

"In that case I will just put both," he told him and for once Edward heard the satisfying plop of food on his tray. He looked up shocked to see the man actually serve him. It wasn't just one serving though the man graciously made sure the scoops were a little larger than what the lieutenant or the sergeant got to make up for his lack of everything else. He handed him the tray and Edward delicately took it as if he was afraid that he would drop what little he got.

"Second Lieutenant Heymann's Breda," the man introduced himself. "We are both under the Colonel. Sergeant Fuery told me all about you."

"He did?" he questioned him, quite frankly surprised. He hadn't seen the Sergeant since his first day in the workshop. They hadn't talked since but he remembered how much he enjoyed the little man's company.

"Yeah. I don't know what the Colonel is going to have you do but tell him that I am sick of being put on kitchen patrol. I have work to do elsewhere than to worry about pulled pork."

"I am kind of glad you are here though," Edward joked lightly as he motioned to his tray. The man barked a laugh as he started to serve the next person. His attention was guided elsewhere and Ross started to pull him across the way to get to some open seats. There was an empty table in the rear of the mess hall. He was kind of glad that the Lieutenant was trying to get to a table to sit by themselves. He didn't think he would have liked to attempt to sit next to one of the soldiers who were glaring at him. He didn't think he would be able to make it out of there alive. They squeezed between the rows of tables and chairs to get to the one that Ross had picked out. As they were weaving their way through Edward saw a familiar face amongst the crowd of people eating. The young sergeant with black hair and glasses looked up at him and Edward gave a slight wave. Fuery returned it before he was questioned by a blond man who was sitting next to him. They lost contact after that. Suddenly, when they were weaving through a rather tight row of chairs Edward felt a swift kick to the back of the legs as someone swept them out from underneath him. He quickly went upside and his back crashed to the floor, his tray of food scattering everywhere like mushy confetti. Howls of laughter picked up as he tried to gain his bearings. Sitting up, he wiped food off of the vision of his helmet. Ross quickly was reprimanding the lower ranking soldier and trying to push the others back as Brosh got his hands under him and lifted him up off of the ground.

"Here," he said quickly as he handed him the now empty tray of food. The only thing he had left was his canteen of water on his hip that he filled up before they even left. The sergeant quickly shoved his way through the crowd and nearly dragged Edward over to where he was supposed to be seated. The Lieutenant followed when the coast was clear and sat down on the right of Edward.

"Are you alright?" she asked him. Edward looked down at his armor to see it splattered with food that he now couldn't eat and bit his lip angrily.

"Yes," he growled after choking down a hot breath of air. He shouldn't have let them get the better of him. He should have been looking out. With everyone staring at him like he was vermin he should have known that they would have tried something. "I… guess this is going to make your job a little more interesting," he mumbled as he reached up and pulled his helmet off. Instead of minding the little food that was left on his tray after the incident, he decided to instead try and clean himself up a bit. He wouldn't let his pride be damaged too much by walking around like a food processor all day.

"I will see if I can't get you anything more from the line," Brosh offered as he got up and jogged his way back across the mess hall. Edward watched as he left, his eyes falling on a still laughing group of soldiers who were amongst the ones who tripped him. He glared at them and when they looked in his general direction he covered up a rather inappropriate gesture with cleaning his helmet. Though not very obvious, they seemed to have gotten the idea and stopped their laughter, taking on a more angry tone. He felt a slap on the shoulder as Ross must have seen it as well.

"That's not helping," she scolded him.

"It's not like I punched the guy," Edward grumbled in defeat as he set his helmet back on the table.

"Yes, but it still isn't helping your case. They aren't used to seeing a clone, let alone that armor walking around here. They aren't going to be the most friendly bunch for a while. If you show them it doesn't get to you they might become bored. After all, they are going to be seeing you on a regular basis."

"But it does get to me," Edward cried. "It is hard enough handling the Colonel Bastard but now a hundred others?"

"Soon you will come to see that the Colonel is far from the worse person out there. There are people who don't like clones more than he does and who will actually act on their distaste," she warned.

"Great, that makes me feel better," he muttered however he felt a hand rest on his shoulder lightly and he looked up to see her concerned eyes on him.

"Don't worry. Our jobs aren't just to protect the other soldiers from you-"

"Gee thanks-"

"-but to protect you from other soldiers. You're our charge. And as much as the Colonel hates to admit it you are also now one of his 're going to be safe." Suddenly the Sergeant returned a little red in the face and angry, making a few glares back at the service line.

"I can't believe them. They wouldn't give me another plate. They said that everyone only gets one serving-"

"Which is true-" Ross told him.

"But the Captain didn't even eat his and they know it. The Lieutenant was only able to get me a few slices of bread," the man said, offering them over to Edward. He took them and quickly thanked the sergeant who still seemed rather angry at their lack of service. "Lemme tell you, if they knew that you were the one who fixed our grain problem they would be giving you a whole loaf of bread."

"I don't think that would count as a well rounded meal," Edward chuckled, trying to make just a little light of the situation. Brosh smiled a bit and picked up his own fork to begin his meal.

"I guess you are right about that."

…..

"You smell like a garbage truck," Roy stated as he smelled the clone walk into the empty study room. He could picture the clone glaring at him beneath his helmet and he smirked. "I suppose lunch went well?" he asked, knowing the answer. Hawkeye had told him what happened in the mess hall.

"5 star meal, couldn't have asked for better," Edward retorted dryly.

"I always thought it was sub par myself," Roy commented as the Captain took a seat across from him at the metal table. He pulled out a couple texts that the Alliance had scrounged together in their library from various planets across the galaxy. The Empire wasn't too keen on saving rebel knowledge and so along with saving lives the Alliance had to also save history and culture itself. Whenever they visited a planet they would retrieve texts and scriptures to safe hold so that the empire couldn't burn it. Scribes at the bases would sometimes do their own research project and compile their own book of information. His own scribe, VF-34 also known as Vato Falman, was a droid that loved history. He had made a few books that Roy was going to use to teach the new clone about the history of the rebel alliance. Hopefully he wasn't getting too far in over their head with that.

"I could lecture you all I want but I simply do not have time for that," Roy said. "Read these and then we will see just how much you know." The captain picked up the first one curiously and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages.

"Sending me back to school?" he joked dryly but there seemed to be a longing in his voice hidden beneath his sarcasm. Roy frowned at it but shook his concern off.

"Just read. When dinner comes then you can stop. I have work I need to do so don't bother me. If you have questions ask one of them," he snapped, waving his hand towards the two guards. Roy pulled out his own work and started to complete his own tasks for the day. He was running through the clone's plans yet another time to try and find some inconsistency within them. He was trying everything he could to avoid having to subject Hawkeye to being read by the clone. Yet Grumman was persistent. Not wanting to think about it, Roy quickly dove into his own work of trying to figure out the patterns himself. The room drew quiet as the two most unlikely people sat and studied in the same room together. Time drove on an Roy thought that it was going to be a peaceful afternoon until he heard a sudden loud thud come from across the table. He looked up, startled to see the clone's helmet resting on the table as he laid unmoving on top of his book. For a second he thought it was the Captain just being annoyed of having to sit there and study but then he heard a light snore erupt from the clone's mouth.

"Edward," he growled, his aggravation blooming. "Edward!" he repeated yet the clone didn't wake up. The Colonel furiously stood up from his chair and roughly pried the book out from underneath the clone's heavy head. The jerky motion startled the clone awake and he made a little yelp as he fell out of his own chair.

"What the heck was that for?" ED-0001 yelled at him as he found his feet again.

"You only got through five chapters?!" Roy exclaimed as he saw where the clone had bookmarked himself last. "It has been only a couple hours and you're falling asleep!'

"Hey! Don't cheat me! I finished it!" the clone tried to deny him however Roy just held the book up to him and pointed towards the page he was at. He was barely a quarter way through it. The Clone pulled his helmet off as if to see better but was still yet again surprised that the Colonel was right. He took it in his hand curiously and thumbed through it again. "I swear to god I read about this," he said pointing somewhere in the back of the book.

"You were asleep-"

"I know but… I don't know Colonel!" Roy ripped the book back out of his hands and flipped it open towards the back where the clone obviously didn't read.

"When was the Ishvalan massacre?"

"Year 1900 following the rise of the Empire. 1.04 million people were killed 16,000 of which were soldiers."

"When was the Northern Peace treaty made?"

"1902 when the Empire attacked planet Briggs and was defeated. The Northern planets under the control of the Briggians joined the alliance and were rarely encountered since."

"Who is their leader?"

"Major General Olivier Armstrong."

"The Xerxe's massacre?"

"The emperor created the clone troops and incorporated them into the Xerxian military. During the winter of 1899 he lead them along with other soldiers into the capital city and took it over. The completely destroyed the Jedi council and killed nearly half of the civilians. The ones who managed to escape the planet were the only ones who survived. From then the Empire started to form and the Alliance branched off under the lead of Van Hohenheim who was only later captured in the take over of Central," the clone said fact for fact. Roy's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the book in his hand and snapped it shut. He looked back up at the guards who appeared just as confused.

"Did you see him finish the book?" he asked quietly. The two of them looked at each other but then shook their heads.

"He only got that far and then…. Fell asleep near instantly."

"Never finished it," Ross elaborated. Roy turned his attention back towards the clone who looked completely shocked at their revelation.

"I… I swear I-"

"So, now along with trance healing you can just fall asleep and gain knowledge instantly," Roy stated flatly, not tearing his eyes off of the captain. It looked like he wanted to retort but didn't have any words. "Has this been a frequent occurrence or are you just turning into a freak now for my amusement?"

"I.. I used to study with my brother when I was in training but… I would never finish the books. I would just read the basics and then fall asleep. I don't understand why-"

"Would your…. Brother…. Do this?" Roy gritted, not liking how sour that word tasted in his mouth in reference to the clone.

"No but… he was of a different series than me. He was always better at the more physical lessons than I was," Edward explained just as confused as anyone in the room. Roy studied him for a little bit but groaned as he massaged his brow lightly. He hated how often that clone could surprise him. It was getting tiring.

"I don't accept this, but start reading the other book and then we will see where this gets you. I am warning you that I am very hard to convince," he snapped.

"Like I didn't know that already," he heard Edward huff under his breath but after another vicious glare the clone was sent back to reading. Roy sat down and looked at the book he held in his hands and flipped through the pages, scanning them hesitantly. It was physically impossible to learn that fast especially when you didn't even read the entire book. Something was wrong with his clone and he needed to get to the bottom of it. His sleep habits always brought strange coincidences that Roy didn't like. He didn't even bother asking the clone if it was because of his series that he was able to do this, it wasn't. He had read his plans over and over a million times and it mentioned nothing about his unexplained healing or learning. The kid had stated before that he learned the process of cloning just by learning the basics, yet that was not enough to design your own experiment. Did he fall asleep to learn that too? Roy had to get to the bottom of this once and for all in order to understand exactly who Grumman had working under him. If there was a power out there he didn't know about, the rebels might be in for a rude awakening. As Roy pondered the clone not a few hours later he heard another thunk on the table as the clone passed out yet again. He sighed as he looked up to see the Captain snoring again. This was not what he had signed up for.

…...


	15. Someone Like Me

_Author's Note: Okay I had most of this written last weekend but unfortunately I didn't know exactly how I wanted the dialogue to go. It does need a little bit of work but after a week of staring at the page with nothing I figured that it wasn't bad. So here is the next chapter. Please Review if you can!_

 _ **A Different Type of Soldier**_

Chapter 15

Someone Like Me

….

Edward sat in his barracks room scrubbing dinner off of his armor. It was routine for him now. Every evening after long hours of studying with the Colonel watching over him, he would return to his room and scrub breakfast, lunch and dinner off of his armor. The soldiers in the cafeteria were relentless. And no matter how clean he made his armor it would just be dirty again the next evening. His hands would turn raw from how hard he would scrub his armor in the evenings to return it to its sparking white. He refused to show up to breakfast the next morning with dinner still on his armor. That would show defeat and he couldn't let those bastards win. In the actual act of being pelted by peas, Edward soon found himself becoming numb to it all. He didn't let it bother him like the Lieutenant said and now it really didn't. He just wished, for Brosh and Ross's sake that the soldiers would stop. He wasn't the only one being hit with food because of their bad aim. It was obvious it was bothering them too. But Lieutenant Ross kept telling him they would stop at some point. Edward just didn't know when.

He sighed as he sat back and looked at his chest plate. It was finally returned back to its whitely state, though now he didn't know if that was such a good thing anymore. He set it off to the side and picked up his back plating to repeat the process again. His guards left for the evening as he was in his room. He was under heavy camera surveillance there but that just meant he couldn't leave the room. If there was a fire he prayed to god that someone was coming for him or else the Colonel would have his wish and he would get burned alive.

It was getting late and Edward yawned tiredly from his long study sessions with the Colonel. The Colonel had been pushing him hard trying to cram all of the history into his head he didn't know how much more he could take. The man wouldn't let him fall asleep anymore which made him even more tired throughout the day. It was because Edward showed him up that he knew the book already. The man didn't want it happening again and forced him to study normally. Edward didn't know how he knew all the answers but he just did. Now that the Colonel had pointed it out and actually told him about it, he found it very odd. He learned like that his whole life when studying with Alphonse. He didn't know any different.

Edward yawned tiredly and inspected his armor. It was crazy that he still had to wear it but then he would think that he would have trouble parting with it. He hated everything that the empire was doing. All that he learned under the Colonel just made him realised where he was his whole life… what he was fighting for. He was now glad that he got away from it. However the armor wasn't the empire. The armor was his. All of it, whether someone was naturally born storm troopers or a copied clone trooper, looked the same. It didn't matter who you were, you were all the same. Edward found some safety in that. He was part of something. But in the alliance, he was the only one whether it was a clone… or an imperial trooper. The armor made him stand out, and that was the General's' intention. It was a target. It really made him feel like he was a monster of creation. He sighed as he picked up his helmet and examined it. There was a face behind that mask, he just really needed people to see it.

There was a sudden knock on his chamber door and Edward dropped what he was doing and staggered over to it. He pressed the button on the panel and it opened up to show Lieutenant Hawkeye standing on the other side along with the Colonel who was looking less than pleased with him. Edward found himself taking a little step back, confused as to why they were there.

"Why aren't you dressed?" he asked coolly without any other greeting. Edward looked down at himself and realised that he wasn't wearing his top let alone his armor.

"What do you mean dressed? It is ten at night. I should be sleeping!" Edward growled at him as he looked around his room for his shirt. "Why are you here?"

"Don't get snippy with me. Put your armor on, you have work to do-"

"I am still cleaning all the crap off of it. It wasn't only dinner but also breakfast and lunch!" he told him a little more aggravated with his evening. He slipped his under armor over his head and pulled it down to cover himself.

"You can finish cleaning it later," the Colonel scolded him. "We need to get you to the interrogation room." Edward frowned. He remembered the interrogation rooms when he first got there. Hours of relentless questions that the Colonel berated him with just to get information from him. With this sudden order to go back there Edward could only imagine what they wanted. Or rather, what they would do to drain every little amount of information from him. The thing was he didn't think that he had any left, at least none that he thought was important.

"Why do I need to go there. You never explained anything-" Edward asked defensively as he began to put his plating back on but the Colonel cut him off.

"The Generals do not believe your translation of your cloning process. They want the answers to why you are able to heal yourself so fast and think you are trying to trick them."

"That's absurd! Everything I wrote down was exactly as it was stated on my back. They can't get more factual than that!" Edward retorted angrily. "All of my notes, even the one's back on Resembool are the same. If you were to go get that notebook it would have everything in it."

"I know. In order to convince them General Grumman thought it would be best if you show your capability of decoding a pattern we already know. Then if it is word for word, we would be able to accept your own as truth."

"And I have to do that now. Tonight," he stated more than asked and he just simply nodded his head. There was obvious tensity in his facial features as he didn't seem to want anything to do with it but the man couldn't disobey higher orders.

"The Colonel tried finding another way around it but only managed to stall it. If he didn't you would have been required to do this a few days ago, sir," Hawkeye told him as Edward stood up with his helmet tucked under his arm. A smug smirk played across his face hearing it and he looked at the Colonel.

"So you trust that I was telling the truth?" he pushed lightly but the man just rolled his eyes.

"For this…. Yes. But don't think that it will be a common occurrence," the Colonel snapped as he turned his back on him and started out the door. Edward slipped his helmet on and followed. In no time they were in the interrogation room that he was in way back when he was first captured. He remembered the long hours of berating questions from the Colonel and really hoped that he wouldn't have to go through that all over again. He sighed as he automatically took a seat in the cold metal chair at the single metal table in the room. The Colonel went off, probably behind the two way mirror to fiddle with some things before returning. The air in there was stiff and Edward didn't like just waiting there with little information. The Colonel returned looking more agitated than usual and with a stiff nod said,

"All of the cameras are offline and the door to the observation room is locked. It is only us in here."

"Why would you do that?" Edward asked hesitantly as the Colonel rounded the table and set a decent stack of blank pages in front of him along with a pen. Since he was starting a whole new pattern he needed a lot of time to scratch through coding processes. Every scientist had their own way and he needed to figure out this new one. However, the Colonel didn't give him a pattern.

"Okay I know I need to 'show myself' but I can't do it if it's written in bloody invisible ink," Edward said as he pointed down to the blank pages. The Colonel pinched the bridge of his nose and took in an icy breath. He seemed more on edge than usual which really unsettled him.

"I don't have it," he said coldly. "The Lieutenant does." Edward raised his eyebrow a little confused at the man's statement.

"Well either way I am going to need -Oh MY GOD," he exclaimed as he turned around to find that the Lieutenant had taken off her jacket and was currently working on her shirt. Edward's face grew red as he quickly ran over to where the dropped her jacket and threw it back at her as if that would make her put it back on. "Wh-wh-what are you doing? I thought… I thought…. Oh my god," he stumbled his face heating up as he turned his back to her. He couldn't look, he was too flustered. He picked up his stack of papers and hid behind them and tried to imagine that the Lieutenant was putting her shirt back on. She wasn't.

"Captain. This isn't anything like that," he heard the Lieutenant say. Her voice still sounded soft and now that Edward listened to it she sounded rather reluctant. She didn't want to do this either. "I have the coded pattern."

"I know! But why are you-" Edward started but then cut himself off as his eyes widened at the realisation. He turned around to see the Lieutenant standing there, her eyes business and her face straight. He couldn't believe it. "You're… You're…a… you're like… me-"

"And they are on my back sir," she confirmed. Edward ran his hand through his bangs, eyes wide. His mind couldn't seem to process it. The Lieutenant, all this time, was a clone like him. He thought he was the only one. He looked back at her and let out a chuckle of disbelief which didn't surprise them at all. In fact it looked like they expected it.

"You're really a clone?" he asked as if to verify it again but the woman just stared at him, slightly annoyed.

"I would like to get this over with as soon as possible. I am not comfortable just like you and the Colonel aren't," she confirmed stiffly. Edward glanced back to where the Colonel was sitting with his legs kicked up on the table. The man's eyes were burning holes through them as he waited for the pattern to be decoded already. Edward got over his amazement to remember where the markings were that he would have to decode and he found himself turning red with embarrassment once more. None of them wanted to do this.

"O-Okay," he stuttered nervously. The Lieutenant turned her back towards him and Edward had to force himself to look instead of cowering behind his piece of paper. He made sure to do his best to position himself so her back was all he saw, nothing else. Embarrassment flooded through him like rain in April. All he wanted to do at that moment was run out of the room. She had burn marks in her back just like he did yet it was more intricately detailed than he ever thought a pattern could be. Whatever was written there, it was important and it was big. Taking in a huge breath he quickly yet carefully copied down the design on his piece of paper. He took in every detail he could even to the places on her back that looked like they had been burned over. It appeared as if they were smudged, like someone had tried to cover them up. But the only way they could do that was by burning them even more.

"D-did someone try and… erase it?" Edward asked her cautiously, as he looked at a spatter of misplaced burns that smeared the pattern and made it impossible to read. All he got was silence, though he noticed that her muscles seemed to stiffen at his comment. He glanced back at the Colonel who looked just as tight.

"Keep working," the man ordered him through his teeth, not even able to look at his general direction with his obviously infuriated eyes. They were always cold but now they were lit with a burning regret that someone could easily confuse with hatred. Edward took in a deep breath, silently apologising for asking questions. The creation process of clones was a highly personal thing. It gives a person all the information about someone; why they exist. Though clones could not translate their brandings, it was a rather significant thing to show someone. It was who they were. Though not always unique, it was still them. He knew that this was awkward even to begin with. None of the participants wanted to be there. He should have known better than to ask.

Edward returned his full attention to his recreation of the brandings. He included every detail that he could, including the extra burns. If he copied something wrong that could have ruined the whole pattern. When he was done he quickly threw the woman's shirt back at her and turned away, not wanting to look at her skin any more. He think he had enough.

"Are you good?" the Colonel asked both coldly yet amused with how embarrassed he had been.

"Shut up!" Edward growled at him as he tried to forget the events that had just occurred and focus on decoding the work before him. It was going to take hours and hours to do this, he knew. Yet it looked like the Colonel expected him to finish it in a single evening. Edward sighed as the clock ticked by and his pages slowly filled up with writing and nonsense. He had to order the Colonel to get more as he filled up both front and back of all pages. After some time of reviewing his notes he felt sudden relief as he set down his pen.

"I got it," he said, startling the Colonel from where the man fell asleep some hours before the sun actually touched the horizon.

"You got it? You're done?"

"Pfff, far from it," Edward jabbed at him. "I just found the pattern now I have to decode the entire thing. You honestly thought I could do it all in a night?" The Colonel turned slightly red but said nothing as Edward kicked his own feet up on the table and picked up a new stack of papers. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, desperately wanting sleep.

"Don't you have any coffee around here?" Edward groaned tiredly. "I can feel the bags under my eyes."

"That might actually be a good idea for once," the Colonel groaned as he looked down at his watch for a second and winced at the time. Edward guessed that the sun should have been rising at that point but the man wasn't going to let him stop. It was going to be a very long time and Edward hoped that the man was prepared for it. They were going to be stuck there for a while. The Colonel looked up at the Lieutenant and he didn't even have to ask her.

"Black, no sugar," she noted, knowing his order by heart. "Sir, what do you want?"

"I want you to not call me sir," Edward mumbled, but after a slightly hardened stare he sighed and leaned back tiredly in his chair. "Cream and sugar," he muttered under his breath. With a nod of her head she left the room. Edward let out a huge breath, kind of relieved that she was gone. It was so weird decoding her brandings while she was there, let alone having to read them right off of her. The only people Edward ever let see his own brandings up close were his brother and Lieutenant Pitt. Very few people he let study them. Even though he knew that they were all marked, they were all marked differently. He wondered just how many people the Lieutenant let see her own scars. Actually he wondered just how many people knew she was actually a clone. Where did she come from? It couldn't have been the empire with the welcome he had got when he arrived there. But where else could she have come from? The last thing that Edward expected was to have another clone within the Alliance. Even though the Lieutenant was strict, and even cold, Edward couldn't help but feel a little better that there was at least someone else like him there. He was feeling less of a stranger to himself.

"Colonel," Edward asked after a while with the Lieutenant's absence. The man grumbled something incoherent in acknowledgement. The morning was getting the best of him too. Edward sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to sooth the kink it held there from looking down for so long. "Where did the Lieutenant come from if not from the Empire?"

"What makes you think she's-"

"No one hates her," Edward said flatly, seeing the man's dark eyes fall from him, "Everyone hates me because I am a clone, an imperial clone no less, but no one hates her. I didn't think anyone but the Empire experimented with humans."

"That isn't my story to tell," the Colonel said softly, his deep voice holding no knives in it. It was strange hearing it in him of all people. Edward was slightly taken back by it. "We all have stories but that one isn't mine."

"What's your story then?" Edward asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the stillness of the moment. The man frowned and shook his head. He spun his chair around so that his back was to him.

"It's a tragedy at best," the Colonel said as the fire spewed back into his voice. Edward tensed slightly with the return of the man's hateful demeanor. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He just wished he understood the man's hatred for him. The Lieutenant returned quickly with coffees and Edward thanked her. He glanced at the notes he had made before and then started to sift through the design to translate what it had to offer. With the support of his coffee he was able to pretend that he at least go a few minutes of sleep that night. The Colonel didn't have to pretend. He was fast asleep after he finished his drink. Edward released a breath of air as the hours slugged by slowly and he worked on his assignment. When he was finished filling each page he handed it off to the Colonel to look over and hold. The man was using his papers as more of a head rest as he was trying to keep himself awake.

"Oh… this is interesting," Edward hummed as he picked up his work and held it closer as if that would make the hidden information more clear to him. The Colonel looked confused and rather startled that he would say something like that but Edward turned to Hawkeye and looked at her once. "It isn't cloning at all-"

"What do you mean?" the Colonel interrogated sharply. Edward was a little startled at how fast he attacked him.

"I-It's just cloning, like me, is near perfect DNA transfer of one originator. Other than genetic enhancement I am a copy. This says you are made from two originators with their own organic tissues. It is practically like having a child but… not physically," Edward tried to explain to him.

"Yes, you are correct," the Lieutenant said,cutting him off.

"I had always thought this was possible but… no one ever figured out how to do it. It seems like a very expensive procedure but… the result is a completely normal, unsynthesised person," Edward muttered to himself as he looked over his few notes again. He sighed lightly as he dropped it back down to the table and rubbed his eyes. Finally thinking that he had found someone like him, he had gotten his hopes up. Now, however, he realised they were still very different. The Lieutenant was a normal human just not born from an actual parent. It appeared that she aged the same, grew the same, and everything. It was unlike him whose age betrayed him and whose body would stop growing when he looked appeared to be 25. They stunted their growth in their prime to preserve function until their death.

"I guess you aren't like me at all," he mumbled as he picked up his pen again to continue his work.

"That doesn't mean we don't have similarities," the woman told him softly, her voice unwavering. Edward shrugged as he tried to translate the next few words of the code onto the paper. It took a couple moments but he eventually jotted them down slowly and clearly.

"You weren't made in the empire," Edward whispered, not looking back at her. He could feel the eyes of the two rebel officers on him and he bit his lip as he tried to focus on his papers but his question was still on his mind. "In the Empire clones are made for work… for soldiers… as the Colonel says destruction," Edward mumbled catching the man's grimace out of the corner of his eye, "I know it might sound harsh but… why were you made?" He asked her this softly, not wanting to tread too far in unclear waters. He knew the pain that came with remembering how you were created. The Lieutenant never was one for expressing herself however there seemed to be a flash in her eyes that Edward was very confused about. However instead of cutting off, she took in a huge breath and nodded her head.

"Some families who want a child are unable to have one, but sometimes families who want a child are not _ready_ to have one," she explained and Edward frowned.

"But… why wouldn't-" She continued against his interruption even though the topic was sensitive and Edward was treading where he didn't belong. To clones, development was rather personal. It was everything about themselves wrapped up in a small picture on their back. She was telling him exactly why a picture was worth a thousand words. Why she stood there today.

"My father learned how to clone when he worked for the empire. However he became a traitor and stole his own research and fled. He met my mother and settled down but she unfortunately died in the delivery of a miscarriage. Berthold Hawkeye tried to make his own child then to replace the one he lost, designing this specific experiment, and he succeeded. However, though I wasn't a clone, he never saw me as anything but that. When I grew old enough to sustain the injuries, he burnt the procedure into my skin as was tradition for clones in the empire," she explained to him. Edward frowned and looked away as he now knew what the Lieutenant had lived through. It was horrible. All Edward wanted was a family and here Hawkeye was made for that sole purpose and couldn't have been farther from the truth. All of his dreams of what a family would be like, Edward guessed they were just that, dreams. He didn't know what it was like at all. He remembered his conversation with Winry that one long evening awhile ago. He remembered the thoughts that were rolling over in his head and he didn't want to go back there. But now he couldn't help but question if they were right or not. Was there really a family in this world for a clone? Now Edward highly doubted it. Hawkeye was created, born for family and they didn't want her. How could he expect any different of a reception? A pang flew through his heart for a moment as he realised he had not clue where his was. Where was Alphonse sent after they were separated? Where was he now? With how big the galaxy was Edward doubted he would even be able to find him. He opened his mouth to question his doubt but a hand rested heavily on his shoulder, silencing his thoughts.

"Captain, you still need to finish your work," she told him, her eyes threatening him lightly. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. Edward's eyes turned back down to the stack of papers before him and he frowned. His doubt boiled in his stomach and left a distaste in his mouth. But, ignoring it all, he sighed and rubbed the morning out of his eyes. He had work to do.

…..

The Colonel groaned to himself as he pried the Captain's notes out from underneath his head. The kid had fallen asleep. The day was yet again pulling to a close and Roy knew that they were done. They couldn't make him stay there much longer even if the pattern wasn't finished. Looking at the stack of papers that he held, he guessed that it should be enough for the Generals to decide if he was telling the truth or not. They needed sleep in actual beds. They had been there long enough.

"Get up," Roy ordered the clone as he gave a rough shove on his shoulder. Edward didn't budge at all as he laid slumped over the table. He tried again but to the same result. Unlike Roy who had the priveledge of taking a few naps here and there through their stay in the interrogation room, the clone was forced to work the entire time. He probably hadn't slept a wink in 38 hours, 24 of which were spent crammed in the metal room. The exhaustion showed in the darkened bags underneath his eyes. He wouldn't wake up even if Roy pulled the chair out from underneath him. He was done.

"Lieutenant," Roy groaned as he rubbed his own tired brow, looking at the problem before him, "what are we going to do?"

"Take him back to his room, Sir," she told him as if she were the one giving the orders. After the entire event, he didn't mind. She deserved it after being made to reveal such a personal thing. Roy felt a stab of anger in his stomach as he knew that Edward had looked upon his Lieutenant and now knew everything. He was an imperial clone and he didn't want the Lieutenant associated in any way with him, however, they all learned a bit that day. Riza didn't know absolutely everything from her creation and what she didn't know, Edward provided. As much as she didn't want to think of her father or her creation, by the look in her eyes it seemed that Riza was relieved to know a bit more about herself than she had before. It was a trade of sorts and that Roy could actually come to terms with.

"How do you propose I do that?" he mumbled as the woman went over to the table and collected the papers from him and the floor where they were scattered. She tapped them on the table to straighten them out and gave him a stern glare. She didn't even have to say anything to make him realise what she wanted. He already knew. He would have to carry him. "No, I am not doing that. He could stay here with his face plastered into the table."

"Sir, his guards went to bed. Unless you want to stay with him here all night, we need to take him back to his room. Those are our only two options," she said, giving him no other choice. Roy growled to himself as he looked back down to the runt before him. There was no waking him up. There was truly only one option.

"At least he's short," Roy muttered as he grabbed the clone's helmet from the floor where it sat and awkwardly situated himself around the armored man. He picked him up, straining only a little bit under his armor with his own exhaustion and clumsily kicked the chair into its place. They had a long walk to get to the dormitories rom there. As he walked the Lieutenant followed dutifully behind him, carrying her own dark lines underneath her eyes. There was a quiet amongst them, one that he wasn't familiar with. The Lieutenant wasn't one for words but there was always an ease between them. Now it was unsettling and all Roy wished was for something to lift the tension.

"Sir," Hawkeye said softly and out of nowhere. Roy was glad for the interruption but he didn't know if he would like what she had to say.

"Yes?" he breathed, rearranging the heavy clone in his arms which were gradually going numb under his weight.

"Do you think there will ever be a place for the Captain here in the Alliance?" she asked him out of the blue. Roy frowned as he looked down to the man in his arms. The golden head rested on his shoulder, eyes closed in restful slumber. He looked almost normal, like a teenager who had fallen asleep reading. But the white armor told him differently.

"Why do you ask?" he questioned her, wanting to know what brought her inquiry about. Her brown eyes flickered down to the ground and Roy knew she was reflecting. The pain in them told him it was probably about her father, her home. She had been forced to think about it lately with the translation of her burns but it was obviously still lingering on her mind.

"I don't have a family, but I have a home, sir, and that's here with the unit," she told them as flatly as possible. She was always very careful to hide her voice when she was troubled. To anyone else she wouldn't seem bothered in the slightest but he heard every unspoken quiver in her voice. "The Captain has even less than I, sir." Roy frowned. Riza had always wanted a family; a mother, a brother, a sister, a place to belong. She was made to have one but it was the very thing she lacked. Though everyone saw her as too much of a strict working woman to even want a family, it was something built into her. She craved it but she was patient. Everyone in the alliance lacked a place that they belonged. That was the sole reason why they were there fighting for it. Roy never really had a family either. The Hughes had acted as his family for as long as he remembered but they were gone along with the capitol. He hadn't seen Xerxes every since he fled from it all those years ago.

Now the Lieutenant was asking him if the clone would ever find somewhere he belonged. The person who worked for the very organization that took everyone's family away from them, she was wondering if he would find his own place like the rest of them. Roy knew where the difference was. As all of them were born with a place they called home, the Captain never was. When he was talking to the Lieutenant about her creation it was obvious he had doubts about his own family. As Roy felt unconnected to the worries of the clone, Riza did. Though she wasn't technically a clone, she grew up treated like one and knew the conflicts and feelings that came with it. She was the only person who could possibly understand the Captain and now she was wondering the same thing he was probably asking himself. Was there anywhere that wanted him? Roy didn't want the clone and he wanted everything in his might to say no, but he knew differently. Slowly, a small handful of people were meeting the clone and actually engaging in his stay there. The Rockbells, Fuery, and now Ross and Brosh, all worked for the captain's wellfare. He supposed that maybe with time others will too. He wanted anything to kick Edward out of the alliance and to have nothing to do with him, but he could not ignore the fact that he was slowly grinding out his own place in the unit, no matter how shallow it was.

"I suppose," he muttered as they stopped outside the clone's room. Riza tapped the key into the pannel and the door slid open for them. Roy carried the golden haired man into the room and dropped him carefully on the bed. He took his time pulling the armor of knowing that it probably wasn't healthy to wear it for that long. The Lieutenant helped them and they stacked the various parts at the foot of his bed, leaving him in his dark black under armor. Edward's automail hand shone out in the dim light of the room as it poked out from beneath his shirt sleeve. Roy frowned as he looked at it.

"Are you ever going to tell him?" he asked her, his eyes locked onto the cold metal arm that now replaced the Captain's own. Riza's eyes flickered for a moment to where his own eyes were trapped. Her eyes were sharp as a hawk and the gleam of the automail reflected in them. Yet she stayed sharp, as sharp as she was that day on Resembool when she had first encountered the Captain; with a blaster bolt. Though she was the only one who could really understand what the clone had been through there was a deep ravine carved between them and which lead to the man's loss of his arm. She had targeted and shot him. She was aiming to kill.

"Someday he will know," she said and left it at that.

…..


	16. Enemies Within

_**A Different Type of Soldier**_

Chapter 16

Enemies Within

Edward sat at his usual empty table in the lunch hall. He could hear the familiar patter of peas hit the back of his helmet as people tried to hit their mark. He sighed as he looked down at his empty plate. He didn't even care to take off his helmet to pretend to eat. There was nothing there. Ross and Brosh offered him some food but he denied. They already had little as there was, he couldn't let them go hungry. After all, he was getting used to it. The peas didn't seem to bother him other than the fact that he would have to clean it off of his armor that evening. It became routine. He usually ate only once a day when he could manage to strangle food from the service line and

"You alright, Sir?" Brosh asked him as he let out another tired sigh.

"Don't call me sir," Edward snapped half heartedly. The sergeant frowned but said nothing else about it. Edward felt a stab of guilt go through him. No only did he have to suffer the wrath of trapezing food but so did they. Not every soldier there had good aim. He could already see a raveoli stuck to the Lieutenant's jacket and red sauce in the Sergeant's hair. He wondered if they too became used to this or if it bothered them still. As Edward was contemplating whether to say something to them or not he heard a familiar voice come out.

"Can we sit here?" the soft voice of Sergeant Fuery asked the Lieutenant. Edward looked up in surprise to see not only the young sergeant but also some other soldiers of varying levels of enthusiasm, the Lieutenant Breda amongst them. Ross easily nodded her head and made room at the table. It seemed that even his guards were getting bored with just him as company. The new group quickly took their seats in the line of fire.

"Why are you-" Edward started to question but was cut off by Breda's deep voice.

"Hey, we are all in the same unit, we should eat together right?" he stated and Edward's eyes widened at the logic and gratefully nodded his head. The lieutenant then stuck his hand out across the table.

"I am sure I introduced myself enough in the lunch line but you?"

"Captain ED-0001…. Or…. Edward," he said, mumbling the last part. The Lieutenant's eyes widened in acknowledgement and a smirk grew on his face.

"Well, sir-"

"Don't call me sir," Edward snapped again but Breda just rolled his eyes.

" _Edward_ ," he over exaggerated. "I know you met Kain Fuery and myself, but this is Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc," he announced clapping his shoulder to a rather grumpy blond next to him. It seemed that the newly introduced Lieutenant wanted anything than to be sitting right there next to him. His arms were crossed and he refused to look in the same direction. "He's kind of sour because he was just getting his aim down with his peas."

"Oh," Edward mumbled as he too looked away from the man. He felt his face heat up slightly as he realised that even people in his own unit were trying to hit him with food. He at least thought that they would allow him to continue in peace but he guessed he was wrong. He felt a spark of aggravation ignite into a smirk and he turned back towards Havoc.

"Well, I don't remember being hit by you. I don't think you were getting close at all-"

Thwap! Before anyone else could stop him, Havoc quickly loaded a ravioli onto his for and flung it at him. It hit him right in the middle of his helmet, smearing red sauce all the way across his helmet's vision. Edward reached his hand up and quickly wiped it from his face but unfortunately that just did more to smear it. He eventually relented and had to take his helmet off to clean it.

"Got you that fucking time, now didn't I?" Havoc snapped at him. There was a tone of anger hidden underneath his joyful smile. Edward would have asked what his problem was but then he suddenly knew what it was, or rather he remembered. Havoc's face struck him as one of the soldiers in Liore. He remembered him standing around and guarding the small group of captured Imperial troopers. He was there. Edward found himself biting his lip as the Lieutenant glared at him. He needed to remember that these people, were the ones who fought and killed his troops. Though he was working with them now, that fact was still stained with the red of his men. They were still out for each other.

He shook his head and tried to bring back the lightfull conversation that was desperately trying to mask the hatred between them both. This was his new unit. Against everything that he lost because of them, against everything that he did to them, he needed to try to atleast find even ground even though he didn't think he would ever get over his time in Liore. He forced a smile across his face as he picked up his fork and the rather beaten ravioli he had wiped from himself earlier.

"I think I can do better," he challenged him. Ross gave him a light warning nudge to tell him he was being childish, but he was. He was nearing only eight years old every day now and that was still far from being an adult even in clone years. However Havoc, even ignored the Lieutenant's chants and grinned devilishly at him.

"I doubt you can do it."

"Two hundred yen that I can hit it. Just name your target," Edward smirked. Havoc leaned up and looked across the room to try and find the best target within range of the fork's capability. However as he was deciding a bright smile played across his face as a light bulb seemed to turn on.

"Colonel Mustang," he jeered. That only made Edward's grin wider.

"You couldn't have picked a target I wanted to hit more," he chuckled. He turned around to see the Colonel walking through the crowd of parting enlisted with his own tray of food. The flying barrage of delights stopped the instant he walked in as to not hit him on accident. It seemed that even other soldiers were afraid of his wrath. Edward knew that Jean picked the Colonel because he was not only a moving target but also near the outer reaches of his fork's range. However, knowing that he just made sure to line up the shot better anyways. Picking up his knee he rested his elbow against it for steady aim and after a short minute he closed his eyes and took in a huge breath to ready himself. He opened them, pulled back on the fork so it was nearly bursting with tension, and released the ravioli so it went flying. He watched as it sailed across the cafeteria and didn't just hit the Colonel but smacked him right in the side of the face.

"Ha!" Edward exclaimed as he turned back to Havoc and opened his hand. "Pay up." The man looked shocked beyond belief that he actually managed to hit the Colonel. Actually now that he looked at it, nearly all of them looked absolutely surprised at his accuracy.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Breda laughed as Havoc angrily coughed up the little amount of money. The now ever so slightly poorer man picked up his tray even more upset with him than before and stormed off to sit amongst other people, probably to practice his own aim. Edward watched him go a little upset.

"What did I do," he hummed.

"He's been angry ever since Liore," Fuery elaborated. "We thought that if he met you in person he might be a little less sour against you but… I guess not."

"He was hit in the spine with one of the blasters. We thought he was fine for a few days but … he started to lose feeling in his legs. Bruised spine," Breda told him. "For all we knew his paralysis could have been permanent. Seemed to have lost all hope until just a few weeks ago he was able to feel his toes again. But you could picture having to be on the same team as the guy who shot him." Edward frowned as he looked back over to where Havoc disappeared. They had all lost something in Liore but it seemed it was rather difficult for everyone to understand. He knew that he himself had killed a few rebel soldiers that day. It was blood on his hands that would make him stand out forever amongst the people of the alliance. Yet he also took the killing of his own troops personally. There just wasn't any right anywhere in the matters of war.

"I lost my arm in Liore too. If I were to meet the person who shot it I would be a bit upset too," Edward muttered.

"Wait," Brosh stated, "You mean you really don't know?" Edward looked up suddenly at the sound of their shock. They were looking at each other as if it was common news for them.

"No. I don't know," he repeated.

"Well isn't it obvious that it was-"

"Edward, what do you plan on doing with a measly 200 yen?" he heard a cold voice erupt behind him. Edward looked up to see the Colonel standing rather rigid behind him, his arms crossed and his eyes like ice. However instead of glaring at him, he was giving warning glances towards his other subordinates. Edward could still see the sauce on his face from where he hit him earlier and he looked down at his hand which still held the money that Havoc gave him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Edward snipped knowing he was just poking the bull at that point. The Colonel reached down and with a swipe of his hand confiscated his earnings. "Hey!" Edward exclaimed reaching after it but the man just easily pocketed it. "It wasn't like I was going to gamble with it. I can't buy anything here anyways. I just-"

"You what?" the Colonel waited patiently for him to continue but Edward found himself stumbling to admit his reason. He felt his face grow red in embarrassment as he turned his eyes down to the floor.

"I just wanted to repay the Rockbells for making my arm," Edward muttered under his breath. There was a moment of silence as the entire table absorbed what he just said. Many knowing smirks played on the soldier's faces except for the Colonel who kept as cool as ever.

"Try getting well earned money next time instead of stealing it off of others…. And a lot more than 200 yen-"

"A little at a time. That was rightfully earned money! I made a bet and he took it," Edward retorted.

"Then make a bet that doesn't have you flinging food into your commanding officer's face," the Colonel snapped at him, giving him a not too light whack across the head. Edward yelped as he clutched his head and glared back at the man. "When you are done eating get cleaned up. You still have your lessons. I don't want to smell you all day."

"Done eating what?" Edward asked him as he motioned to his tray. The black eyes flickered down towards his not only clean tray, but a perfectly unused one. Edward thought he saw a flash of aggravation in there but it wasn't shown. The man quickly muttered some words of fire underneath his breath as he retrieved his tray from his own table and dropped it rather forcefully in front of him. The tray full of food hit the table and splattered a little bit but it was still there. Edward felt a blast of steam in his face as the pasta taunted him. He looked back up in shock at the Colonel, not expecting that at all.

"That food. Now hurry up, clone, I haven't got all day," he growled at him and with that said the man stormed off back towards the service line. Edward's eyes were wide in surprise as he watched the man not only order more food for himself but reprimand the servers for not feeding him. He was not expecting that from anyone, the Colonel of all people. He glanced back down at his tray, his mouth already watering from the sweet aroma of lunch in front of him.

"See?" Ross said motioning to his tray, "Doesn't eat until his own does."

"I guess that means you're part of us now," Fuery noted happily.

"I wouldn't go that far," Edward muttered as he delicately picked up his fork and popped a ravioli in his mouth. "But I am sure grateful for the thought."

…

"Why didn't you go before we left?" Ross asked, annoyance very clear in her voice as they were walking towards the cafeteria for dinner. The halls were lightly crowded as many of the other soldiers were on their break as well. Most of them sent glares or elbows Edward's way but that was the least pain he was in at that moment.

"There is no bathroom in the classroom! You know that!" Edward retorted. He felt like his bladder would explode if they didn't allow him to go relieve himself in the next two minutes. Spending all day in a stingy classroom really gets to you, as well as your bladder. At least the Colonel said that he finished his lessons. After an exam they would be done with that part of it. Edward was relieved, but obviously not too relieved as he was trying to restrain himself from dancing around his urge to pee. The Lieutenant groaned as she dragged him over towards one of the male restrooms. Brosh wasn't on duty as some family matter popped up with his younger siblings and so it was only the Lieutenant. The unfortunate thing was, she was a she and he was a he and that meant she couldn't invade his privacy in the bathroom.

"You are supposed to have a guard in there with you-"

"We won't need to go in if we wait here a few more seconds," Edward whined. "I am about to explode." Ross looked slightly repulsed but with a hot breath and a light massage of the temples she relented.

"I will be at the door. You have ten minutes and only ten minutes. If you aren't back out here there will be a manhunt after you," she scolded him, the glare in her eyes frightening him.

"You sound almost like the Colonel," Edward griped but the stare was relentless.

"This is my job and I am not following protocol. Do it quick," she ordered. "Your time starts now."

Edward raced into the bathroom as fast as he could and quickly fumbled to remove his plating. A sigh of relief escaped him as he let out all the spring floods in the Southern Quadrant. He had held it in for too long. It took a little longer to get his plating back on after the deed was done but soon he found himself standing in front of one of the two sinks in the rest room washing his hands. He looked in the mirror at his helmet covered face. It was cleaned yet again by the Colonel's command but that still did nothing to hide all of the scratches and hits it took over the years. The yellow stripes on his armor that marked his position were looking faded and worn. There were small ticks in it, damaging the armor's smooth surface but not its endurity. His golden eyes could be faintly seen through the helmet's lenses and they didn't look up to par either. They held a tired drone to them as he was just ordered around a routine all day. Would he have to spend the rest of his life worrying if he could use the bathroom simply because he needed guards? He groaned as he turned the water off and just hung by the sink for a few moments to try and clear his head.

Suddenly the door to the bathroom opened up and Edward glanced up to see a couple soldiers walk in. They faltered seeing him in there and seemed rather unsettled. Edward was rather surprised to see them too but then reasoned it was a public bathroom. After a few awkward moments of just staring at each other, unsure of what to do, the soldiers continued on their way to use the facilities as if nothing was ever the matter. One of them went straight for the urinals, the other to the sinks right next to where he was standing. Edward found himself taking an ever so slight step to the right as he was a little uncomfortable being so close to a stranger. He was used to the other soldiers' presence in the building and hallways but other than those that concerned him or were in his unit, he was never in proximity with. The man eyed him once but continued to look at his teeth in the mirror as if there were something stuck in them. Edward grabbed the hand towel and started to dry his cleaned hands, trying not to look at him.

"So, do you have a face under that bucket?" the man asked him nonchalantly though Edward thought there was an air of bitterness underneath it.

"Of course," he replied flatly as he reached for his plated gloves that rested on the side of the sink. Just as he was about to grab them another hand came out and snatched them away. Edward was a little taken back as he watched the man inspect them curiously. "Give those back," he ordered, turning to face him fully.

"You sure got a lot of armor for such a shrimp, won't you show me what you look like under that helmet? I am only curious," the man chided with a smirk. Edward glared at the man, not like he could tell through his expressionless helmet.

"I can't. I am not allowed to take it off unless I am eating or a higher military official tells me otherwise," Edward stated flatly the rules and regulations of his armor. "You are only a Private." The man frowned. Though Edward was from the Empire, the rules of courtesies and rank did transfer across the rift to the rebels and vice versa. Upon capture, Captains had to be referred to as sir. Though orders were trifle, there was still a hated sense of respect that came with rank. The young Private however didn't seem to like the rules of courtesies as his fists clenched tightly around Edward's gloves. There was a look of anger in the man's eyes that Edward knew he shouldn't cross if he feared for his life, but it looked like he was too late to realise it.

"And you are only a clone," he hissed before Edward felt the man's hand collide between a gap in his armor, the most prominent one being his throat, and latching around it. The force of the excursion slammed him back against one of the stalls and he felt the little amount of air get knocked out of him. Edward's hand reached up and grabbed the soldier's and tried to pry it off of him. His lungs were begging for air within seconds. The man reached up and Edward felt his helmet get pried off of his head. He wanted to yelp as the man accidentally pulled his hair in his effort but all that came out was a gurgle as he tried to gasp for air.

"Ah there's your ugly mug. Hey Johnny! Get a look at this guy. Just to imagine there are a million of you is downright repulsive," the man jeered and a light spout of laughter picked up from the other fellow. Edward's vision started to speckle with stars and he desperately tried to push the guy off of him. As his hand wasn't budging, Edward found his own grabbing around the soldier's jacket. The man looked surprised like he wasn't expecting him to grab him but Edward used the man's faltering grip to his advantage. He pulled the man closer to him and brought his head down into the man's skull. He was released instantly as the soldier hissed to himself under the pain and Edward gasped for air. He tried to take a step away from the two men who were in the bathroom but he found his legs wobble underneath him as he fell to his knees. His raspy breaths raked across a sore throat and his own hand reached up to it to ease the fiery red pain he felt there. Damn, it hurt! Struggling to regain his breath, Edward heard a curse escape the men next to him.

"That bastard!" There was a swift kick to his side that his armor took. The force sent Edward down on his back and he felt a sudden fist slam into the side of his face. Stars flew across his vision and he was left slightly dazed. He saw the fist cock back again to deliver another blow lifted his arms up to protect himself but two more reached up and pulled them back. Another punch was delivered to his cheek bone and the pain brought tears to his eyes. The soldier was standing so close to him that Edward could hear the angry raspy breaths he was dealing along with the other whose breath ran down his neck as he restrained him. Edward brought his leg up to kick the Private away but he felt himself freeze. He couldn't attack a rebel. That was all the General's needed to send him six feet under. But it was in self defense they couldn't just expect him to sit there and take it! Edward tried arguing with himself but he knew there wouldn't be a difference in the Generals' eyes. They would see him as a danger and have him hung either way. Edward didn't know how long it was, but he knew he hurt. The men dropped him and he collapsed back down to the floor of the bathroom, gasping for air. They stood up and dusted their hands off as if ridding them from the dirt they got from touching him. Edward didn't move from where he laid. He didn't think he could bring himself to look them in the eye. He was pitiful not fighting like that and he felt the full effects of the brawl.

"Come on Johnny, let's go," the Private muttered. The other soldier in the bathroom stepped over Edward like he was a heap of trash and nothing more. "Wash your hands you slob. You come in here to use the bathroom and I can't believe you," he scolded Johnny. Edward heard the light sound of water as they finished their duty and the footsteps faded out the door. He groaned as he pushed himself up off the floor now that the coast was clear. His body felt like it wanted to crawl but Edward forced himself to retain the only pride it had left and walked slowly over to the sink. He stood hunched over it as he looked in the mirror. Golden hair hung in disarray around his beaten face. A cracked lip was dripping blood down his chin and a thick scratch above his eye was doing similarly. His left tearing eye was starting to swell red and Edward just knew as it finished its job he wouldn't be able to see out of it. His entire face would be a black and blue mess. He reached his fingers up cautiously and touched it, withdrawing instantly with a hiss of pain.

"Damn it," he felt himself cry out softly. His eyes were watering as he tried to suffer through the pain. He couldn't go outside like that. He couldn't. When all of the other soldiers saw him they would do the same. He would just be a new punching bag for them. His face told him he already was. Edward cursed as his eyes wandered down to the floor. He spotted his discarded helmet and gloves tossed carelessly to the floor. Scurrying over to pick them up he quickly slipped his gloves on his hands so no one else who went in there could get the same idea. He slowly pulled the helmet down over his head, his bruised face screaming at him all the way. It hurt so bad but when the helmet was on, the damage was done and over and it hurt no more than it did before. He looked back in the mirror. With it on he looked normal. A small amount of blue caught his attention and he noticed that the collar of his black underarmor was falling down. His neck was bruised where the Private's fingers dug into his skin. He quickly pulled it back into place and reattached his neck guard.

Edward found himself not wanting to leave the bathroom. He didn't want to go out there and face Ross. What did she know of what happened in there? Did she hear them? Did she allow them in on purpose? Edward shook his head at the silly thought. Ross was protecting him. Remembering that important bit of information had sent him out the door in fear of soldiers trying for round two. With his guards, he was safe.

"Nine minutes," Ross said to him as he stepped out into the busy hallway. Everyone was still heading to lunch. A crowd of blue clad soldiers stood across the hallway and Edward recognised two of them as being the ones who had come into the latrines. They were laughing, poking fun with a victorious pride. Edward felt his face heat up, angry that they were taunting him but his body went cold in fear. They were spreading the word. Others were sure to follow. There was a sudden nudge in his ribs and he flinched at the contact. Ross was looking at him expectantly as she must have said something but he didn't catch it.

"Wh-what?" he stumbled, trying to ground himself back in reality.

"Are you ready to get something to eat?" she asked him, a small worried look crossing her face.

"I-I'm not really hungry-"

"You were saying you were starving in the classroom," Ross stated and Edward knew it was true but didn't want to eat. He couldn't take off his helmet.

"I just wanted to annoy the Colonel and get out of there. I am not actually hungry," Edward mumbled trying to pull a light smile in his voice. "Besides, I had lunch and breakfast already. That's two meals. One more than I am used to getting here. My stomach isn't used to it!" He tried to sound light hearted but it only seemed to make Ross more worried. But luckily for him, she didn't act on it.

"If you are sure," she said as they started their walk to the cafeteria. They both got trays. Even though Edward had no intent on finishing his he was glad to see that the Colonel's scoldings got through to the servers in the line. They gave him a full serving of everything. They sat down at their usual table, but it was now occupied by the other members of their unit. Havoc was looking rather upset with his presence there as he glared at him from across the table. Edward didn't say a word as he poked his food with the fork he was given, bored out of his mind as he waited for the Lieutenant to finish her meal.

"Hey chief, aren't you going to eat it?" Breda asked him as he saw he wasn't touching his food.

"No, I-I am not hungry. I got a tray so that the Colonel wouldn't hit me a new one, yah know?" he said, trying to force the false smile back on his face from before. Breda, just like the other Lieutenant, didn't look convinced.

"Stew is the best meal they make here. I would try it if I were you," Fuery tried to bribe him into eating something but Edward shook his head.

"I will try it later," he mumbled absentmindedly. There was a sudden thwump as the Colonel joined them at the table, dropping his tray down tiredly. Though they both came from the same place, he looked a little more tired than when Edward had saw him in the classroom. He was carrying a file, which he set underneath his tray. He looked rather angry at it and everyone seemed to know it.

"What do you got there, sir?" Fuery asked quietly, hoping not to poke the bear.

"Missing supply report," he groaned and loaded his own mouth with food. "Apparently the ward lost the blood samples from a few weeks ago. I am _this_ close to sending out a search team to find it all."

"Blood samples? We aren't in charge of those. Why are you filling out the missing report for them?" Breda asked. Edward saw the Colonel's eyes flick up to him and his stomach dropped.

"You lost it?!" Edward exclaimed. "You lost my blood samples! I thought you said you were going to make sure no one would get my cloning information."

"I promised you nothing of the sort. I said that we wouldn't make clones, nothing less," the Colonel retorted.

"Paperwork, blood, guard shifts. It's one more thing we have to worry about just because of a stupid clone!" Havoc sarcastically cheered as he twirled his finger in the air.

"None of this is up to me, you know it!" Edward angrily scolded the blond haired lieutenant as he glared back at him.

"It was sure up to you when you shot me in the back. You know I am still doing paperwork on that too?"

"I didn't-"

"So it was just the _other_ clone commander in Liore that nearly took my legs from me," the man boiled.

"Just let me finish-"

"You don't deserve to finish so shut up and eat your dinner, chief, or else we will be finding ourselves doing paperwork on that too," the man snapped back. Edward felt his anger boil and he stood up from his chair ready to make a long winded comeback but the colonel heard what Havoc said. Of course the insult had nothing to sway the Colonel's moral heart, it was very true. But what Havoc said brought the attention of the Colonel back to his plate.

"Edward, why aren't you eating your food?" the man asked him, his voice bitter with disappointment. Edward's eyes flickered down to his tray. The warm sweet smelling steam of the stew taunted him and made his mouth water but he gritted his teeth against it.

"I am not hungry," he forced himself to say. The Colonel frowned.

"I didn't spend all that time at lunch making them serve you just so you won't eat. Sit down, take off your helmet, and eat. I don't care if you aren't hungry," he ordered. Edward closed his eyes as his fists clenched. He had to obey, he had to. Mustang was higher rank. But the fear of what lied underneath the helmet built a stubbornness in him and against it all he let out a hot breath of air and looked down at the ground.

"No," he whispered, barely audible to anyone. Everyone held a look of blasphemy on his face and he saw the Sergeant noticeably recoil with the outburst that was sure to come. Edward knew what to expect but he surely didn't know that Mustang's face could turn that color red.

"No?" the man breathed a fire that would burn even ice. "Did I hear you correctly?" Edward gripped the table with such force he threatened to break it. His eyes were locked on the floor. He reluctantly nodded his head.

"I said no," he repeated, only a little louder. "I am not taking my helmet off." The Colonel stood up from his seat and rounded the table. His steps were slow and deliberate and his burning glare never left him. He stopped only when he was standing right infront of him. Edward felt himself take an ever so tiny step back from him.

"I have the right to court martial you and you know exactly where that will lead you, to the gallows," the man seethed. "Now take your helmet off."

"If i take my helmet off, sir," Edward spat weakly, "I will be sent there anyways." The Colonel seemed to freeze as he looked him in the eye. His face seemed to harden ever slightly.

"Everyone," he said, his voice showing no emotion whatsoever, "Pick up your trays, interrogation room Alpha, now," he ordered. Edward's eyes widened as he felt his heart freeze over. The Colonel, after picking up his paperwork, ignoring his unfinished lunch, grabbed Edward roughly by the arm and dragged him out the door. Edward stumbled behind him and couldn't help but feel the spirits of the universe damn him to hell. He didn't know what was going to happen to him. Was the Colonel going to court martial him? Was he going to send him to execution? Edward felt the cold claws of death start to tickle the bruises around his neck. He felt it hard to breathe as he was lead deeper into the base. The Colonel threw him down into the hard metal chair he was so used to by now. Everyone else followed in behind him as quiet as mice. Havoc looked more like this whole ordeal was a big inconvenience for him. Edward gripped the edges of his chair, his breath caught in his throat as an overwhelming feeling of fear caught hold of him. He felt his heart freeze in his chest and flinched as the Colonel roughly slammed his hands down on the table across from him. His black eyes glared into him with a burning fire.

"Take your helmet off," he ordered again. "We are alone here."

"N-"

"Take off your helmet, or so help me I will rip it from your head. We did not come all the way down here just for you to continue disobeying your chain of command," he scolded. Edward looked down at the floor and then back up at the Colonel. He was still glaring at him, unwavering. He didn't have a way out of this. He closed his eyes and took in a huge breath as his hands reached up and gently removed his helmet. He dropped it down to his lap and he heard quiet gasps come from the people of the room but the Colonel stayed silent. Edward didn't dare look him in the eye. He didn't think his wilting pride could take it.

"You were in a fight," Mustang stated the obvious as if he was still trying to process it. Edward nodded his head slowly, still not wanting to look at him. The Colonel dragged his hands down his face as the situation hit him and he collapsed down in the chair opposite of him. Silence hung in the room for a good few minutes thickening the air like a roux. Mustang let out an angry growl and slammed his fist down on the table. "Fighting is the worst thing you possibly could have done. You assaulted another rebel soldier. Do you know how the Generals would see this? It is an attack on the internal safety of the Alliance!"

"Of course I know that!" Edward yelled at him in retort. "I didn't assault anyone! Neither of them have a scratch on them. They - They…," Edward faltered as he knew his arguing was pointless. He had done nothing. He let himself be beaten. It had hurt so bad and for what? The Colonel was still going to report this. He was still going to be killed for nothing. They were going to pin it on him. There were no other witnesses. Edward felt water build up in his eyes but he quickly buried his face into his crossed arms on the table. He would not do that, not in front of everyone.

"Sir," he heard Ross address him quietly, "Did this all happen when you were in the-" She didn't have to finish as he nodded his head. She let out a light gasp and the Colonel turned to her questionably.

"Who did this?" he asked him.

"I-I don't know. They were two privates," Edward told him lifting his chin to rest on his arms. There was a light harumph from where the other soldiers stood in the room and Edward glanced over to see Havoc crossing his arms arrogantly.

"Whoever they were, I wish that I could have been there," he muttered under his breath. Edward felt like someone shot an arrow through him as he heard the man say that.

"You want to do this?" Edward found himself whispering harshly, as his feet found themselves planted on the floor as his body rose to stand. The blond lieutenant glared at him and Edward felt himself grow very disappointed in the rebel soldier. "You want to beat me to a pulp? Well, go ahead I surely can't stop you! You better get your hits in now before I am just a fucking corpse hanging off a rope! All of you! Come on!" he raged as he grabbed his helmet and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a clatter and silenced the room with its obnoxious sound. Edward challenged Havoc and the man seemed to want to take it. He looked just about to roll up his sleeves but Breda held him back with his one hand.

"Both of you stand down!" Mustang roared as he shoved Edward roughly back into his seat. "You are making it very hard for me to believe you, clone!" Edward crossed his arms and slumped down in his chair, not wanting to look at any of them. The Colonel turned back to Ross and asked her what had happened.

"Sir, we went to the restroom after the class on our way to the mess hall. I couldn't go in with him… for obvious reasons and I stood outside the door. Two men walked in and then a few minutes they walked out, the Captain after them. I didn't know anything was the matter. I accept full responsibility for not following protocol, sir," she said stiffly. Her lip was taut as she was very upset with the result of her actions. She obviously felt really guilty for what had happened. The Colonel turned back to Edward and looked him over once, his eyes were unreadable.

"You really didn't hit anyone?" he asked once more as if to be sure. "They don't have a single scratch on them?"

"No. I wanted to but I didn't. I sat there like a limp rag doll as they punched my face in. They weren't touched," Edward mumbled. "It isn't like it mattered. You are going to send a report in either way and that will be it."

"I don't see any reason on sending a report in because you fell down the stairs," the Colonel told him. Edward's eyes widened as he looked up at the man. He wasn't going to send the report in?

"Why-" Edward started to ask but the Colonel cut him off.

"I don't want to have to deal with the paperwork," the man muttered, giving a weak excuse. He turned back to the rest of the unit ignoring Edward's shocked expression. "From now on the clone will have at least one male guard on him at all times. If Lieutenant Ross needs you to fill in that spot, there will be no objections. You will do it until you are properly relieved. Got it?"

"Yes sir!" they all replied, some less than others. The Colonel pointed to Havoc who had replied less than thrilled.

"Lieutenant Havoc, you are going to escort the Captain back to his chambers-"

"Colonel-"

"Whatever grudge you and the Captain have against each other needs to be resolved. I will not have tension within the unit," he snapped at him. Havoc pushed past Breda and up to the Colonel. He looked rather angry with his new orders and Edward was rather uncomfortable with them too. He couldn't picture what would happen on his walk back to his dorm, not with him on guard.

"Colonel, even you hate clones. Why do I have to change my views when you-"

"Because I am a higher rank that the Captain, I am allowed to despise him," he chided. "You are a Lieutenant, second at that and though the clone is from the empire, a Captain there is a Captain here so he is above you. You cannot hate higher ranks but you can disagree with them all you want. Now whatever you have against him, you better get it out now for if I hear any arguing tomorrow morning at breakfast there will be consequences." Havoc's mouth was open to retort but his angry words were lost in his throat. The fire of rage was sending bridges of flames over towards Edward and he felt his own throat drop to his stomach. He didn't dare speak up against him.

"Ross," the Colonel snapped and the other Lieutenant stepped forward, guilt still played out on her face, "Havoc will be a sufficient enough guard for this evening. You can rest-"

"But sir-"

"Rest," the man ordered. "You will be back on duty tomorrow. The rest of you," he said turning towards the rest of the unit, "there is not to be a word of this. Go." Without a challenge, without a word, the other soldiers filed out of the room. Each gave a slight worried glance towards Edward but other than that they were silent. Edward felt fear build up in his stomach as the room became almost empty, only leaving him with two men that hated him the most. The Colonel was massaging his face tiredly as he seemed to still be sorting out ways to cover up the incident. Edward was still surprised that he was going through such lengths to do this when it was obvious he still hated him with a burning passion. But he saved his life by not turning in a report and for that Edward was grateful. Havoc however looked like he wanted to recreate the incident all over again.

"Clone, you are going to be able to do that weird healing thing to your face right?" he asked him, seriously.

"I don't know. I don't control it-"

"Well try. We can't have you eat in the mess hall until that is all cleared up. People will ask questions. If it isn't fixed by tomorrow morning, take your meals down to the classroom," he told him. "Now. Havoc, take him back and deal with what you have to along the way." The Lieutenant's face was as red as ever, the color clashing with his blond hair. The Colonel however ignored him and turned his back to leave. Edward stood up from his chair, really wishing that the man would stay and take him back instead. He didn't feel safe with Havoc at all. His face would probably look even worse come tomorrow and there still wasn't anything he could do to fight back. But he still kept his mouth shut. He didn't have a voice against the Colonel and after everything he did for him, he shouldn't argue. After all, there still was time for the Colonel to change his mind and turn in the report.

The door closed behind the Colonel and all was still. Edward felt the burning eyes of the Lieutenant on him and he didn't dare look at him. Swifter than Edward had ever seen anyone move before, the Lieutenant had him seized by the chest plate and pinned against the mirror that separated the observation room from the interrogation room. Edward gasped at the shock of the movement but his eyes caught the Lieutenant's fist pull back for a punch. He could feel the fiery anger spewing off the Lieutenant with every breath.

"Do it. It isn't like I can stop you," Edward challenged him. The Lieutenant's grip on him tightened and all of his muscles were posed and flexed. Edward could just imagine the man's fist plowing into his only good eye but it stayed suspended in the air. His golden eyes tore off of the angry man's fist and looked over to his eyes, surprised that he was faltering at all. The anger that held the green orbs under its control was wavering and Edward saw it turn into something that looked more like despair. He was breaking down.

"Everything," he heard the man whisper through his clenched teeth. "I thought I lost everything. I couldn't walk, I couldn't move. You shot me. You shot all of us but you didn't kill us. We lost so much. I couldn't use my legs for so fucking long. I thought it was the end. Why are you even here? Why are you taunting me!"

"You aren't the only one who lost something, Havoc," Edward said, not harsh at all. He was just stated the facts. The Lieutenant's fist flexed even more as it pulled back to really pull the punch. He didn't flinch that time. Golden eyes bore right into the green ones, challenging the Lieutenant to even move. "You shot my Company when they had all surrendered. They dropped like marionettes with cut strings. I saw you pull the bloody trigger. You killed every single person I could have called a friend. Unlike your legs, Lieutenant, they aren't coming back." Lieutenant opened his mouth, the fire in his eyes burning his throat with what he wanted to say but Edward didn't let him. His golden eyes froze the man in his place. He needed to tell him what he had to say.

"Havoc, I don't blame you," he said softly. "We were under orders, in battle, we did what we had to do. I still feel traumatized by what happened to my company and I don't think I will ever get over it. But, I don't blame you as I hope you don't blame me." The Lieutenant's grip loosened ever so slightly and Edward finally felt his feet lower all the way to the floor. The man doubled over, nearly resting his head against his white armored chest. Edward's eyes widened as he saw the man start to sob quietly in front of him. He was in distress. He had heard from Breda that the man had bruised his spine and had temporary paralysis for six months thinking that it might just be permanent. The man had lived that long being damned to a chair thinking that he would never walk again. He was emotionally breaking down, but after all that Edward was through he knew that sometimes letting it out was the only way to overcome it. He must have been taking his anger out on him the whole time. After all, he was the one who had shot him.

"Six months, six bloody months, and it still isn't gone," the man hissed to himself. "I still feel the numbness." Edward felt like he should do something but he didn't really know what. He carefully lifted his hand and patted the man's head of bushy blond hair awkwardly.

"Focus on what you can feel, not what you can't," Edward said softly, trying to divert his attention from everything that he had lost. "It will come back. You're okay." That pattern continued until the man's sobs quieted and the tears stopped coming. After a long pause of silence the man looked up at him, his eyes red from crying. He looked gratefully confused.

"Why are you showing me sympathy? After everything we did to each other?" his hoarse voice asked him. Edward was taken back. Did he really think that he was so emotionless because he was a clone?

"I mean… if you want we could duke it out but you already know I can't fight you," Edward muttered, removing his arms and taking a small step back from the man. Havoc stood up and straightened himself out, trying his best to wipe his long due tears from his face. He was holding all that in for six months. "But," Edward started, "against everything that people want to believe, clones aren't bloodthirsty animals, just prisoners of circumstance…. Really really fucked up circumstance."

"Aren't we all," Havoc chuckled lightly, trying to bring some light to something, somewhere. Edward found his smile trying to mimic his but the pain of his bruised face made him falter a bit. He winced and brought his hand up to touch his split lip. It broke open and started to bleed once more. The cost of smiling. Havoc reached into his pocket and brought out a small cloth and gave it to him. Edward took it hesitantly, and held it to his cut, hoping to stop the bleeding as fast as he could. "You aren't what I expected a clone to be-"

"As I found out in my lifetime, I like to disappoint people. It has become habit," Edward muttered under his breath.

"I am sorry for… how I treated you-"

"You are rightfully distressed. We all need to release it somehow," he said. "I wasn't the nicest either, especially to the Colonel." Silence stretched through their conversation and both stared at the floor unsure of what to do then. It seemed that the tension between both of them flew out of the window however they didn't know what to replace it with. They hung in that empty void for a while until Havoc eventually walked over and grabbed Edward's helmet which laid on the floor where he had thrown it earlier. He handed it back to him and Edward found his hand wrapping gently around it.

"I guess this means we sorted it out?" he found himself chuckling lightly. A grin grew on Havoc's face. It was as naturally happy as it could have been in that moment.

"I hope so or else the Colonel is going to be really pissed off in the morning and I really don't want to get on the wrong end of his flames that's for sure." They smiled at each other before Edward sturdied himself to slip his helmet on over his hurting face. He winced as it slid over his head but before he knew it the two of them were leaving the small confines of the interrogation room with their dinners in tow. Havoc was telling him lightly about helping him get some ointment on his cuts when they got back to his room. Edward felt his heavy damned heart lighten a bit with Havoc's light conversation. It gave him hope. Maybe people could really change. He felt they both did.


End file.
